


Silver Linings

by Kingless



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: (The relationship is open ended not the plot), Action, Action & Romance, Affection, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Wings, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Blow Jobs, Body Dysphoria, Creampie, Demons, Double Penetration, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Falling In Love, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Love Confessions, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Play, Orgy, Overstimulation, Pet Names, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Polyteez, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rimming, Romance, Smut, Snowballing, Throat Bulge, Violence, Wings, belly bulge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:13:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29035227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kingless/pseuds/Kingless
Summary: Utopia. By definition this is a place where things are perfect. For San it is Elysian. His home above the clouds, as close to heaven as a mortal can reach. The people of Elysian live in abundance, hidden inside wards as ancient as the skies themselves to protect them from their almost biblical counterparts, the Infernal. While San has never seen an Infernal himself, one of his lovers faces them daily. The stories are enough to give him nightmares. He hides from those too, in the arms of both his lovers when they settle in at night.It is under the cover of night, however, that the Infernal strike. And it is at night, in the gleam of moonlight, that San loses everything that he holds dear. Down below, through the clouds and beyond the reach of Elysian, is the middle ground. Earth. The stories of that place...they very nearly rival those of the Infernal. Now, with his wings in tatters, San is stranded there. Meant to recover in the only Elysian sanctioned place on the ground, San finds little worth fighting for as he does. Perhaps there are a few silver linings though, even in a place like this.
Relationships: Choi Jongho/Choi San/Jeong Yunho/Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang/Song Mingi, Choi San/Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 5
Kudos: 39





	1. Paradise Falling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Krimmro](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krimmro/gifts).



> The base idea: wings, smut, angels/demons ideal came from Krimmro  
> This is also her birthday fic, so feliz compleanos! Hope I did your fantasies justice

Silver. It’s a color San finds comfort in. Silver came with night, and night meant Hongjoong would be coming home. He was running late, though. So San stood on the balcony, hands gripping the banister, gaze on the far off moon. Glowing, silver, familiar. A hand brushed along his back suddenly, startling him. San glanced over his shoulder, his wings shivering as someone joined him on the balcony. Seonghwa smiled, his own snowy white wings settling against his back as he leaned against the banister beside San. 

“You’re antsy” he said, a statement rather than a question. San tapped the banister, stretching his wings a bit. San always liked Seonghwa’s wings, pretty and serene. San’s weren’t as pretty, grey with streaks of white. Pigeon. San ignored the niggling thought, peering out at the moon again. Hovering at the edge of the Elysian in the distance, glowing bright against the backdrop of tall buildings and bridges. 

“He’s late” San said simply, Seonghwa hummed. He reached out, stroking along San’s wing now. They hadn’t settled, stretching and flexing absently. San ignored the tingle that accompanied Seonghwa’s touch. He always did this, figuring the distraction was welcome. It was...but San wanted to wait for Hongjoong. 

“He won’t be for long, I’m sure” Seonghwa reassured him, “let’s go inside, settle in for the night. He’ll wake you when he gets home, he always does” he said, coaxing San’s wings down against his back again. San frowned, relaxing into Seonghwa’s touch some. 

“What if he doesn’t?” San asked, 

“He will” Seonghwa said, smiling as he took San’s hands from the banister. They were cold from gripping the marble for so long, Seonghwa rubbed them with a hum. “You’re going to become a gargoyle if you stay out here any longer, you know” he said, San huffed, shuffling closer. 

“That’s just a fledgling’s tale” he said, Seonghwa let San burrow into him for a moment before guiding them into their bedroom. 

“Perhaps, we don’t want to test fate though” he said, their room looked like a lot of their home did. A mash of all three of them in one space. Seonghwa’s touch of neat, clean colors. White, grey, blue. With a splash of San’s feathers and silks, pillows and decorative nonsense. The walls were a testament to Hongjoong’s boredom and skill with a paintbrush. The wall above their bed was a scene from San’s favorite story, the Phoenix, the Peacock, and the Pigeon. The pigeon was huddled beneath the grand wings of a gorgeous phoenix, and the peacock had its feathers spread over them both. The colors were a bit faded and San noticed the paint peeling in a few places. It was five years old after all. 

Seonghwa drew San to their bed, settling down side by side. San tipped his head back to peer at the mural, a leg slung over Seonghwa’s waist, his hand still between both of Seonghwa’s. Five years…

“It’s peeling” San said quietly, Seonghwa glanced at him and then followed his line of sight, tipping his head back to peer at the mural. 

“Mm, yes, well it is however many years old” Seonghwa said, 

“Five, it’s five years old” San said, 

“Is it?” Seonghwa asked, San looked at Seonghwa.

“You don’t remember how old it is?” San asked, a bit astonished that Seonghwa of all people didn’t remember. Mr. Books, Mr. Dates and Times didn’t remember when Hongjoong painted the mural over their bed. 

“To be fair Hongjoong has painted and re-painted a lot of walls in our home” Seonghwa said, lifting San’s hand and curling his fingers through San’s, their palms pressed together. 

“Yeah, but this one is special. Hongjoong’s never repainted this one, it’s been here since we moved in” San said, Seonghwa blinked at him. 

“Has it? How did you manage to remember that? You don’t even remember your own doctor’s appointments” he said, San scoffed. He pulled his hand from Seonghwa’s and climbed into his lap, leaning heavily on his sternum. 

“Park Seonghwa, are you telling me you don’t remember the day we moved in together? You remember the first time Hongjoong cried during sex but not this?” San said incredulously, Seonghwa rested his hands on San’s hips with a thin laugh. 

“Need I remind you the first time Hongjoong cried during sex had been the first time he let us both take him at the same time, that was rather memorable” Seonghwa said, a glint in his eyes. San didn’t need reminding, it was last year and San would be damned if anyone took that memory from him. San collapsed on Seonghwa’s chest, ignoring the slightly pained grunt he received. 

“Still, this was important” San said with a sigh, Seonghwa leaned up to press gentle kisses along the bridge of San’s nose. 

“Very important, I’m sorry it slipped my mind” Seonghwa said, San toyed with a stray feather over Seonghwa’s shoulder. 

“It’s okay” San relented, letting Seonghwa soothe him with a few more kisses. He felt a yawn come on, he stifled it but Seonghwa gripped his chin. 

“You’re tired, we should sleep” Seonghwa said softly, San made a noise of complaint, trying to shake Seonghwa’s grip. 

“I wanna wait for Hongjoong” San complained, 

“He’ll wake you-” 

“I want to be awake already, though” San cut Seonghwa off, Seonghwa gave him a patient look and a pat on the butt. 

“He won’t be pleased if you’re dead on your feet when he comes home” he said, San could feel a strong pout coming on. Seonghwa nuzzled against San’s throat, “don’t pout, I’ll help you wind down if you’d like” he said, the promise made warmth zing through San. He squirmed a bit as Seonghwa’s hands began to stroke along his back, teasing against the space where his wings met his shoulders and then down beneath the band of his pants. 

“Yes please” San mewled, Seonghwa was happy to oblige. He shifted San off of him, lying him across their bed on his stomach. Not before stripping him of his clothes, however. San was not one to whine when lying naked in front of one or both of his lovers, he knew where that would get him. Though Hongjoong wasn’t there to punish him, Seonghwa certainly would deny him if he became too noisy or impatient. But Seonghwa also liked to take him his time. From taking San or his own clothes off to laying even a hand on San. So not whining became a bit of a task as Seonghwa shed his pants and knelt on the bed behind San. 

“I never get tired of looking at you like this” Seonghwa sighed, finally resting his hands on the back of San’s legs. He ran them up, warming San’s skin all the way up to his ass. San shivered, hiding his face in his arms, wings trembling against his back. “Pliant, waiting, you’re patient when you want to be Sannie” Seonghwa said, sounding almost amused as he began to knead San’s flesh. San made a small noise, wiggling his hips a bit. 

“I’m not gonna be if you keep me here like this” San said, Seonghwa hummed. Then his hands disappeared. San had stuck his own foot in his mouth again. But then he heard the click of the lube bottle and buried his face into the blankets, skin already breaking into goosebumps at the thought of what was to come. His wings shook out, begging for attention. 

“My, my, you’re wound up tonight” Seonghwa said, San felt the drip of lube across his ass first, then a firm hand stroking down between his wings. They were to different sensations, both of which shot right to his core. San could feel his cock stiffen between his thigh and the blankets. “Let’s calm you down” Seonghwa said, his hand leaving the space between San’s wings only to grip his ass, now slick with lube. San felt the blood beneath his skin simmering as Seonghwa rubbed the pad of his thumb against the furl of his hole. With some coaxing Seonghwa was able to sink his thumb in and San had to do everything in his power not to whine. San was far easier to prep than Seonghwa was, a thumb was nothing. He wanted more, needed more. Seonghwa leaned over San’s prone form, sinking in deeper. 

“Hah...Hwa…” San breathed, drooling against his arm. 

“Seeing you this close to begging almost makes me envious” Seonghwa murmured, nibbling at the skin along San’s jugular. San huffed, turning his head a bit. Seonghwa seized up a bit, breath caught in his throat. His movements seemed stiff, difficult, awkward even. San tried to see what he was doing but it was difficult. 

“Huh?” he murmured, a bit fuzzy in the head. Seonghwa pulled his hand back and San finally let loose a whine, “why?” he complained, turning onto his side, wings tucked up and shivering. Seonghwa was over the side of the bed, digging around in what San could only assume was their box of night time play things. San let his gaze drag over Seonghwa’s backside, down his wings and the feathers that had stuck up at odd angles, then it lit on something interesting. There was a gloss along Seonghwa’s ass, lube. It was even dripping down his thigh as he rummaged. That’s why he hadn’t been focused on San, he had been fingering himself instead. San bit his lip, rutting slowly against the bed, cock almost too sensitive from lack of attention. 

Seonghwa sat up when he’d found what he was looking for, San almost trilled at the sight of what he’d dug out. It was a toy, specifically a toy San had bought a long time ago that they almost never got any use out of. It was a dildo, double sided and purple. Unused because Hongjoong’s pride didn’t allow it half the time. Something about satisfying your mate or something or another. San didn’t care, the idea of Seonghwa fucking himself on the same toy as San at the same time was far too enticing right then. 

“Turn over, careful of your wings dove” Seonghwa said, scooting toward San. San obliged, turning over and shifting up the bed, flicking his wings out so they would lay flat. It was a good way to avoid crushing them and to rub at the sensitive spot between his shoulder blades while getting fucked. 

Seonghwa settled on his back and wiggled his bottom toward San, with some maneuvering he lifted his hips and angled the toy toward himself. San stared, unable to find it in himself to look away as Seonghwa sunk the toy into himself. San’s gaze flicked up from the toy to Seonghwa’s face. Seonghwa made a soft noise, lips parting, brow furrowing. The look in his gaze fuzzy and warm, unfocused as his own cock began to leak precum heavily. San’s cock twitched against his thigh, antsy as Seonghwa fucked himself a few times with the toy. 

“Seonghwa, please” San begged, toes curling into the sheets. Seonghwa laughed breathlessly, licking his bottom lip as he drove the toy in deep. It was seated fully in him now, about as deep as a regular toy would have been. But San watched, a helpless noise leaving him as Seonghwa continued to push. He buried the toy deeper, a high pitched noise leaving his throat and his legs bending as it disappeared bit by bit into him. “Is it deep? Can you feel it?” San asked in a bit of a daze. Seonghwa whined, leg kicking out a bit as he pushed the dildo another half in. 

“Deep, deep, deep” Seonghwa mewled, head falling back and free hand scrambling against the sheets. San couldn’t stop himself, he reached forward and took hold of Seonghwa’s cock, stroking him slowly. Seonghwa jolted, hips stuttering. “San, Sannie no, no” he pleaded, mouth falling open on a moan. 

“Me too” San breathed, shifting his hips forward. Seonghwa nodded, practically a bobblehead. Seonghwa pulled the toy out slowly, twitching and whimpering as he got it free most of the way before pushing it back in only part of the way. He left plenty of room for San. San took full advantage of it too, shoving his hips down onto the toy until his ass met Seonghwa’s and it was nudged right against his prostate. San didn’t even want to move, soft chants of Seonghwa’s name leaving his mouth as he grinded against the toy. Seonghwa, however, was not so satisfied. 

With some leverage against San’s hips Seonghwa slid the toy free and then slammed home, effectively jabbing the head of the toy into San’s prostate and sending pleasure zinging through him. Seonghwa kept going, fucking himself on the toy and fucking San in the process. San writhed, gasping, against the sheets. Clinging to anything he could get his hands on, his cock leaking and twitching hard as he felt his orgasm growing. 

“Wanna cum, wanna cum” San begged, rolling his hips. Seonghwa nodded frantically, not slowing his pace. 

“In me, cum in me Sannie, please. Fuck me” Seonghwa pleaded, almost crying as he tried to get a better angle with the toy. San could hardly move but he kicked his way up the bed, whining as the toy slid free. Seonghwa groaned, turning over as San clambered onto his knees. Cum, he wanted to cum. That was the only thing he could think about right then. When Seonghwa presented himself and the toy was still in him San nearly came right there. 

With a high whine San gripped Seonghwa’s hips, rutting against his thigh. Seonghwa made a noise of complaint, wiggling his hips. Focus, focus, fuck Seonghwa. That’s what he wanted. San’s wings fluttered almost frantically as he pulled away, cock bouncing pathetically, balls drawn up tight. With a shaking hand he pulled the toy out of Seonghwa, eliciting a sweet noise. It took a false start and two more tries before San sank into Seonghwa and found a rhythm. Seonghwa was close, San could tell right away. The way he fluttered around him, hips dropping every other sloppy thrust, the noises San pushed out of him were choked off and half formed. It was all for naught, though. San was coming, a whiny noise leaving him as his hips stuttered hard. 

Seonghwa arched his back, trying to clench as San filled him with cum. San winced, still whining as he pulled out. He watched Seonghwa’s hole flutter, open and dripping with his cum. 

“Sannie” Seonghwa mewled, he hadn’t cum yet. San picked up the toy, without much preamble he pressed the toy in. The glide was slick with cum and Seonghwa wasn’t complaining, he only gasped and whined as San fucked him with the toy. Still dizzy with his orgasm San thought back to when Seonghwa had been able to take almost the whole toy on his own. He slowed his thrusts and began sinking it in, Seonghwa’s back arched and San pushed a long, drawn out moan from him as he pushed the toy beyond its limits again. Half way, then three quarters, and then all that was left was about a nub. Just enough for San to hold onto. Seonghwa was a mess, writhing and begging. San reached down and gripped his cock,

“It’s almost all the way in Seonghwa, I bet you can feel it in your guts, hm? If I wiggle it, can you feel it in your throat?” San asked lowly, shifting the toy side to side. It ripped a whorish moan from Seonghwa, San’s cock gave a valiant twitch but his refractory period won out. Either way, Seonghwa was cumming over San’s hand and clenching around the toy, nearly stealing it from San’s fingers. His wings shivered hard enough that a few feathers came loose, San didn’t even bother sweeping them aside. It took a long time but once Seonghwa calmed down and relinquished the toy San eased it out and tossed it aside. 

Seonghwa collapsed on his side, breath still evening out. San crawled up into the space against his chest, facing him. Seonghwa’s eyes were closed, San traced his face with his gaze for a moment. Seonghwa cracked his left eye, 

“All of that...was the precursor to going to bed, Sannie” Seonghwa said, voice a bit hoarse. San kissed him, 

“I know, I just like looking at you” he said, Seonghwa hummed and pulled San closer. 

“Good night San” Seonghwa said, with a gentle finality. San smiled, nuzzling into Seonghwa’s chest. 

“G’night” San said, letting his eyes fall shut. 

There’s a sound. It’s heavy. Steps. San’s brain slowly processes as he wakes. It’s dark, much darker than when he’d gone to sleep. Even the moonlight from the balcony door seems dim. San blinks, tipping his head up a bit. Seonghwa had shifted away as they slept, now curled up on the other end of the bed. San scrubbed a hand through his hair and then down his face, trying to figure out where the noise had come from. 

Their room was almost fully dark, Seonghwa must have turned off the lights while San was sleeping. Which was fine, but now San had to squint in the dimness pretty hard. The steps had stopped and San didn’t see anyone. He shifted, getting onto his knees. The bed squeaked, then he heard them again. A light flipped in by the door, San turned. He blinked a few times, 

“You’re home” San said, relieved to find Hongjoong standing in the doorway to their bathroom. What San wasn’t relieved to see were the marks along Hongjoong’s arms and torso. Most of his clothes had been shed except for his pants, and those were...they were splashed in something dark. The same stuff streaking Hongjoong’s face and wings. Hongjoong’s wings were already dark, but this stuff was practically ichor. San could almost smell it from where he was standing. 

“Yeah, I didn’t mean to wake you” Hongjoong said, he had a wash cloth in hand. He was scrubbing at his forearm. San climbed out of bed, going toward Hongjoong. Up close the mess was even worse, so were the wounds. They had been treated, San could tell that much. There were even bandages here and there. It still didn’t settle right in San’s gut. Either way, San took the cloth and Hongjoong’s hand, pulling him back into the bathroom. Hongjoong didn’t say anything, San could tell his head was still back wherever this had happened. San didn’t ask, he never did. Seonghwa taught him not to. 

Instead, San guided Hongjoong to the tub and sat him on the edge of it. He ran the water and pulled the showerhead free, testing the water briefly. San was already naked, Hongjoong hadn’t even made a comment. He really wasn’t here right now. San tried not to let it bother him. He focused on taking care of Hongjoong, especially since Seonghwa was still asleep. Once the water was warm San helped Hongjoong out of his pants and got him to step into the tub. He rinsed the ichor and blood away, using soap on places there were no open wounds. When San got to his wings he almost cried. 

Hongjoong’s wings were unique and San thought they were so pretty. They were auburn with flecks of brown and the strangest streak of black through the left one. But the ichor was clinging to the feathers, you could hardly tell the color of his wings now. Let alone find the streak. San got to work, plucking through the feathers and scrubbing as carefully as he could. San’s sensitive spot was between his wings, Hongjoong’s wings were pretty sensitive all over. San could feel him shudder when he rubbed along the skin too much or closer to his shoulders. 

San didn’t know how long they were in there, but before long a majority of the ichor was gone. So was the smell. Not to mention Hongjoong was coming back to the present. San could tell because not only was he hard from all of San’s touching, but he kept trying to pull San’s around to his front. To which San tsked briefly before returning to his wings.

Once the water ran cold Hongjoong’s wings were clean and pretty again. San smiled as ran his hands along them, eliciting a few full body shudders from Hongjoong. 

“Don’t do that if you’re not going to help me” Hongjoong snapped, hunching forward and curling his wings with him. San snickered, draping himself along Hongjoong’s back.

“Don’t be so grumpy, I helped you plenty. Your wings are all pretty and clean now” San said, nuzzling against Hongjoong’s damp hair. Without all the ichor and dirt it was almost snowy, even while wet. San snuck his hands down between Hongjoong’s thighs, 

“I’m not grumpy, I’m- ah!” Hongjoong jumped when San got hold of him, San only smirked as he worked him over. Snippy Hongjoong very quickly became whiny Hongjoong. As San stroked his cock, which was leaking like nobody's business, Hongjoong’s wings drooped. His whole body melting against San. It wasn’t long before he trembled hard and San had to rinse his hand in the chilly spray of their showerhead. Hongjoong took it upon himself to wrap San in a towel before taking them to bed. 

When they arrived Seonghwa made a noise, an awake noise. 

“Sorry, Hongjoong is loud” San snickered as he crawled into the space between his lovers. Hongjoong swatted San on the flank on his way by, 

“I heard him come in, I just couldn’t bring myself to wake up. Sorry dove” Seonghwa hummed, leaning over San to plant a kiss on Hongjoong’s brow. Hongjoong settled in against San’s back, combing a hand through a few of San’s grey feathers. 

“Don’t worry about it, it’s late” Hongjoong said, laying kisses along San’s shoulder for a moment before burying his face against his neck. 

“Yeah, what was the hold up? We had time to mess around for hours before you got home” San said, Hongjoong bit San in the place he had his face buried, eliciting a sharp yelp.

“We had a breach” Hongjoong grumbled, San rubbed the spot Hongjoong bit with a pout. Hongjoong brushed his hand aside and soothed the bite with gentle brushes of his thumb, methodical motions as he spoke. “They only got through the lowest ring but the fact that they got through at all is cause for concern, the wards on the rings are ancient. They’ve never been broken before” Hongjoong said, gaze drifting away as he ministrations slowed. 

“They were broken?” Seonghwa said, voice barely above a breath. San didn’t know a whole lot about security on Elysian, that was all Hongjoong and Seonghwa. Hongjoong was a guardian and Seonghwa was a diplomat, after all. San was just...San. Their bed bird, as they so affectionately put it time and time again. 

“It seemed like it, I wasn’t the one that found them. The information was passed on once we dealt with the Infernal that snuck their way in through the holes in the fence, but what it looked like…” Hongjoong seemed pensive, “someone’s tampering with wards” he said, San blinked as Seonghwa’s wings puffed out. 

“Th-that’s-that’s grounds- that’s- H-Hong-” Seonghwa’s tongue didn’t seem like cooperating, San decided to reach around him and soothe down his feathers as he tried to figure it out. 

“It’s being handled by the Imperator, we don’t have to worry” Hongjoong said, closing his eyes as he pressed as close as he could to San. Though the matter seemed settled, Hongjoong’s tone didn’t seem quelled. Neither did Seonghwa’s feathers. San did his best to lay them flat before nuzzling up into Seonghwa’s space and settling for the night. Seonghwa took a long while to calm down, but once he did they were all able to sleep. 

_It’s so pretty here. All white and shiny, it’s like the air is cleaner and fresher. San couldn’t stop breathing in so deep as he flew. And his wings, clouds above, his wings! They were gorgeous! Almost like Seonghwa but made of starlight, silver and white and glittering. It was all so brilliant. So, so-_ a flash of lightning strikes through the light. A crack of thunder shatters the silence. Blackness bleeds onto the landscape, a siren rings in San’s head. 

“San, get up!” a voice shrieks, San’s eyes snap open just as someone yanks him out of bed and into their arms. They drag him across the floor, his feet aren’t even under him before they’re taking him onto the balcony. 

“What’s-” it’s too late, San knows what’s going on. His sleep addled brain has caught up, and fear propels him further into Seonghwa’s arms as Seonghwa tries to climb onto the banister at Hongjoong’s urgency. 

Down below, the beautiful sight of their city is in ruins. The emergency siren is blaring, fires are roaring and black creatures of all sizes are tearing through the streets. People are screaming, fleeing, flying as fast as they can. Some are being caught, San can see. A neighbor, a girl he knows, Jinwoo. The name comes to mind just as he watches her get tackled to the sidewalk down below by a spidelike creature. San hears her scream, then slaps his hands over his ears. His heart is thrumming in his chest to a panicked beat, sweat building along his neck. 

“San!” Hongjoong shouts, grabbing him by the wrists and jerking him around. San stumbles, breathing becoming erratic as he looks into Hongjoong’s gaze. He can already hear it, before the words even leave Hongjoong’s lips. He’s already shaking his head, already begging him not to say it. Not to make him. “Go!” Hongjoong snaps, pushing San into Seonghwa’s arms. Seonghwa wraps him up tight, San can see Seonghwa’s wings spread in his peripheral vision. 

“Please” San begs, choked. But it can’t be heard over the chaos, Hongjoong is already going back inside. Going to do his duty, readying for battle. To protect them...to risk his life. With a powerful beat of his wings Seonghwa pulls them off the balcony, San curls into his chest, tucking his legs up and making himself as small as possible so it’s easier for Seonghwa to carry him. 

San’s vision is blurred by tears but he can still see. His paradise, his home. Torn to shreds, gone up in flames, fighting for its life below them. Seonghwa soars through smoke and dingy clouds, but they become thick suddenly. San tires to squint through them, even the sound of the sirens is muffled in them. 

“Seonghwa-” something black comes tearing through the fogginess suddenly, San can barely react before it slams into them. San cries out, trying to grab at Seonghwa as the spindly hands tear them apart and throw them toward the ground. Not even throw, propels them. A thin, spiny hand buried in his gut is pushing him down, down. Fast enough that San is sure he’ll break something the moment he makes impact. San whips his head back and forth, searching for Seonghwa, wings beating frantically as he kicks and wriths. Then he sees Seonghwa, fighting, pushing to no avail. They’re going to die. San nearly freezes with the realization. 

“San!” Seonghwa cries, San can barely meet his gaze through the wind as the city begins to come up around them, the ground is close. “Fight!” Seonghwa begged, voice hoarse as he screamed. San’s throat was dry, fight. 

With all his strength San wiggled his hands between himself and the hand, then he twisted, ripping the nails from his nightshirt. He free fell, gasping as he realized he was about four seconds from hitting the ground. San’s wings shot out on reflex, catching the air. He shot out, angling toward Seonghwa. He snatched him by the back of the shirt, ripping him free of the Infernal and barreling toward the city limits. Seonghwa scrambled in the air, the shirt giving with a few unnerving tears. 

“San, wait!” Seonghwa gasped, San tried to haul him closer but in the moment he looked down something appeared in their way. Unlike the spindly creature that had snatched them out of the air this creature was built much like if a tank and a bear had a child, so when San slammed into his entire body rang like a gong before he went flying to the ground. Seonghwa collapsed beside him and the Infernal hulked over them. 

San groaned, trying to turn over despite the fact that he felt like he’d bruised about seventy percent of his bones. Seonghwa, however, was already on his feet. 

“San, get up, you need to run” he said, wings spread between San and the Infernal. San lifted his head, squinting a bit. Up close, the Infernal were like living brimstone. Glowing red beneath flecks of burning ash. 

“Seonghwa” San forced himself onto his knees, biting back another groan of pain. The Infernal took a step forward, a growling rumbling deep in its chest. Black smoke began to seep from its body, San watched in horror as hands began to form in the smoke. Reaching for them, 

“Now!” Seonghwa barked, voice surprisingly steady despite how his legs shook, wings included. San grimaced, getting to his feet. He shook his wings out, he wasn’t leaving Seonghwa here. Not on his life. San was faster than him, so he had to be faster than these things. 

San bent his legs, 

“Move” he snipped, taking a quick running start before beating the air hard. He took off, pulling his wings in tight to shoot through the air. Seonghwa screamed his name, it was far too late. San had made up his mind, so had the Infernal. 

San’s plan, though half baked, had almost worked. He shot past the Infernal, spreading one wing and hooking it in the air to come back and kick hard into the back of the Infernal’s head. However, San hadn’t seen the smoke hand waiting for him. The smoke hand that closed around his ankle and swung him through the air toward a nearby streetlight. 

“San!” Seonghwa screamed, San collided with the metal. The air punched from his lungs, pain lancing through his torso. “Drop him!” Seonghwa snarled, a flurry of feathers and kicks as he threw himself at the Infernal. The Infernal did drop San, but from a pretty decent height. High enough that San bursted into tears the moment he hit the ground on his back, the pain overwhelming. It hurt to breathe, each breath brought a new wave of pain. But Seonghwa couldn’t keep dodging the swipes that Infernal was throwing at him. 

San looked around, blinking tears out of his eyes. A sign caught his gaze, the city limits. They were close, very close. A few yards away was a wall, just over that wall was a drop. _The drop._ If they could get the Infernal close enough they could push it off. 

San gritted his teeth, took a deep breath that hurt like hell, and climbed to his feet. He was unsteady, choking on air and a little blood. 

“Hwa…” San wheezed, already stumbling toward the other end of the street. “Hwa!” San tried louder, Seonghwa spun into the air, keeping his distance as the Infernal roared its outrage. San waved an arm, his other one securely around his abdomen. Seonghwa turned in a circle, searching, and then he spotted him. 

“San, what are you doing!?” Seonghwa cried, San pointed a few times before hobbling a little faster toward the wall. Just a few yards away now. Seonghwa made a noise of fear, San turned just as something black shot through the air toward him. He sucked in a breath and let his legs drop out from under him, the Infernal’s smoke hand slammed into the brick wall. A sizeable hole was smashed into it, which was well in their favor at this point. 

San grabbed onto the wall, hauling himself to his feet. He turned and watched as the Infernal lumbered his way, Seonghwa trying his best to distract it in the air. 

“Through here ugly!” San shouted, Seonghwa made another noise. This time at San, urging him to shut up it seemed. But San needed the Infernal to be angry, angry enough to lunge at San. Or at least at where San was standing. “Come on, you’re so slow” San egged him on, the Infernal’s gaze burned and it straightened up suddenly. San felt fear jump in his stomach just as a dozen smoke hands grew from the ones already writhing around it. 

“San, move!” Seonghwa swooped down, but their timing seemed to be just terrible today. San wasn’t in any condition to dodge or run, so all he could do was watch in horror as the hands descended on him. They grab by the wings, Seonghwa’s shouts are far away as the hands blot out San’s vision. 

The feeling is...indescribable. Searing, horrific, unimaginable pain. Like having your very soul ripped in pieces. That’s what it felt like as those hands ripped the ends of San’s wings up, lifting him high over the wall, over the edge of the city limits. San was hardly coherent enough to beg, the tears coming unbidden, body limp and limbs heavy as the hands held him. Then...as they dropped him. 

His name, that’s the last thing San heard. Seonghwa, Seonghwa was all he saw. Diving after him, that’s when it reached him. Deep in San’s brain, through the mind numbing pain, he was falling. Seonghwa was flying down after him, diving, reaching. San reached, skin cold and burning all at once. Seonghwa’s fingers brushed his, and then a cloud consumed him. Seonghwa disappeared from sight, San’s vision began to darken. It’s far away, but he hears it. He hears...

“San!”


	2. Heaven Does Not Move

There’s an echo of pain throughout San’s body. There’s also an echo of sound in his head, it’s accompanied by flashes of images. Images that begin to draw San out of the darkness of his mind. Burning buildings, screaming in the street, the Infernal. Seonghwa. San peeled his eyes open. 

It’s too bright. The star is high overhead but it’s so bright here, not a soft glow from below like Elysian. San blinked in rapid succession, trying to adjust as he shifted. His whole body was one giant ache, San could barely feel his skin. From what he could feel though, wherever he was lying wasn’t comfortable. Lumpy, something crunchy beneath him, his wings were- 

“My wings” San gasped, throat horribly dry and voice a rasp as he tried to sit up too fast. His body complained, a new wave of pain assaulting him as he turned over. He tried to tip his chin down, looking over his shoulder. His wings were battered, bloody, all he could feel was pain. San couldn’t bear to think about what the bottom of his wings looked like right now. The hands, San could feel the ghost of them. Pulling the feathers away, tearing the muscle, snapping the bone. Nearly ripping the wings clean from San’s back. 

San grinded his head into the ground, the ground that he could now see was all dirt and something like tall grass. Dead, dry tall grass that itched as he rubbed his face into it. Willing the tears away as he hiccuped, his whole body trembling with sorrow. His loss was felt almost too greatly. San couldn’t take it, the grief would kill him. He was sure of it. But there was a sound, it almost fully interrupted his thoughts. 

A rumble, the memory of the Infernal’s rumbling growl struck fear into San. He whipped his head up, trying to look around despite how difficult it was to move. The rumbling got closer, there was another sound too. Music, a song was playing. Then San saw it, some kind of contraption. Long with wheels, a glass front and lights that couldn’t be seen in the daylight. It rumbled its way down a long pass, closer to San until it stopped a few yards away. San was shaking as he tried to move, trying to get up, to run. 

Someone got out, they put a hand up to their brow. 

“Can you stand?” they called, San could hardly make out a face. But he did see a mop of black hair, the man wore plain clothes too. San did in fact try to stand, well, he tried to get to his knees first. It went about as well as he expected, collapsing back onto his front after about two seconds. “Ah, one sec” the man said, leaning back into his contraption. When he got out he came jogging toward San, a black bag in his arms. San shied away, wings trembling hard against his back. Wanting to take off, to flee. The man dropped beside San, putting the bag in front of him. “Let me take a look at your wounds real quick, then we can move you” he said, 

“No, no, don't touch” San said, trying to writhe away. The man rested a hand carefully on the back of San’s leg, the other holding him by the upper arm. 

“They’ll get infected” the man leaned down, trying to catch San’s eye. “My name’s Wooyoung, Jung Wooyoung. What’s your name?” he asked, Wooyoung...upon closer inspection, Wooyoung was very...Elysian. But he had to be human, no wings. San had never seen a human before, it was almost startling how similar they were to the Elysian people. Wooyoung was pretty like an Elysian, he even had a beauty mark. But maybe not all humans looked like Wooyoung, 

“I don’t want you touch them” San said quietly, settling in Wooyoung’s grasp. Wooyoung gave him a tender look, 

“I know, but if I don’t they’ll get worse. I’ll tell you what, I won’t clean them here. I’ll just wrap them so we can move you to the Sanctuary, we can clean them there” Wooyoung offered, San looked at him again. 

“Sanctuary?” he asked, voice breaking. It was all coming back to him now, the things he learned in school as a fledgling. 

The Elysian who fall, more often than not have damaged wings. They, in themselves, are damaged. Thus, they are not meant for Elysian. So they stay here, on Earth, with the humans. In the Sanctuary. San was...San’s wings shook, the pain evident. San was broken…

“Yeah, we’ll be able to help you there. Just let me bind your wings so they won’t jostle during the ride” Wooyoung said, reaching for his bag. San’s eyes watered, he let his forehead drop into the dirt. He didn’t want Wooyoung to see him cry, he didn’t know this person. Wooyoung didn’t say anything, though. Not even when San began sobbing as Wooyoung bound his wings with white bandages, folding what was left of them against his back. It took only a few moments, when he was done he packed his black bag and helped San into a sitting position. Then he was on his feet, leaning heavily into Wooyoung’s side. They were about the same height but Wooyoung didn’t seem to struggle with San’s weight all that much as they hobbled toward his contraption on wheels. 

San couldn’t even fight him, not with the pain still throbbing through his body. Not with the defeat living in him. San let Wooyoung man handle him into the machine, binding him to the seat with a strap, then closing him in before getting in on the other side. Music was still playing from a radio inside the thing. 

Wooyoung got in and closed his door, then he pushed a stick and turned the wheel. The machine began to move, the rumbling sound starting again. The noise put San on edge, but he was a pile of bones and pain as they went. He let his eyes fall shut, head against the glass. 

Behind his eyelids, that final memory played over and over. Falling, Seonghwa diving after him, the barely there brush of their fingers. San let every moment settle into his chest, where it would live forever. Because without proper wings, he’d be stuck down here the rest of his life. His forever, the one he had promised Hongjoong and Seonghwa years ago, no longer belonged to them. 

Seonghwa was living a waking nightmare. The Pearl City was in ruins, the aftermath of the Infernal attack almost catastrophic. That wasn’t what gripped Seonghwa’s heart, though. San. Losing him, letting him slip just through his fingertips, the guilt was ripping Seonghwa apart. 

After San fell guardians had swarmed the Infernal on the street, they had saved Seonghwa. But they had been too late to save San. Seonghwa had been too late to save him. Seonghwa had been urged to return home, where it was safe. He almost couldn’t, but eventually he did. Collapsed on the floor of their bedroom, staring at the sky forsaken mural, that’s where he’s stayed. 

Hongjoong hadn’t returned, out handling the mess the Infernal had left after the attack. Seonghwa was almost grateful, he couldn’t fathom what he’d say. How he’d say it. Every time Seonghwa tried to put to words what had happened, he broke down. Saying it felt...real. Seonghwa didn’t want it to be real. San had to be here, in their bed, in their home. The home they’d built together, all of them. 

There was the fluttering of wings out on the balcony, Seonghwa felt himself seize with fear. There were steps, Seonghwa couldn’t lift his head. He stayed knelt by the end of the bed, a statue. 

“Seonghwa?” Hongjoong spoke into the quiet of their bedroom, “Seonghwa, what’s...where’s San?” even hearing his name hurt, Seonghwa’s eyes began filling with tears again. They burned from overuse, “Seonghwa” Hongjoong breathed, steps hurrying as he approached. “Seonghwa, where’s San?” he asked urgently now, dropping at Seonghwa’s side. He gripped him by the shoulders, coaxing him up. “Seonghwa” Hongjoong said again, Seonghwa’s throat was dry, his lips were even more so. It hurt when he wet them. 

“I...Hongjoong…” Seonghwa’s voice cracked, he could already see it in Hongjoong’s face. The fear, the plea not to say what he was going to say. “I tried, I couldn’t- he- I couldn’t grab him, he fell” Seonghwa choked out, chest already seizing with a sob. Hongjoong slid his hands down, taking Seonghwa by the forearms and pulling him closer. 

“He fell” Hongjoong repeated, sounding hollow. Seonghwa buried his face in Hongjoong’s shoulder, collapsing into him as he sobbed. “He fell, but he-the cloud catches us, he can come back. He’ll come back, Hwa” Hongjoong tried, Seonghwa shook his head. A broken noise wrenched from his throat, 

“His wings- it got his wings, I tried” Seonghwa wailed, the pain overwhelming. Hongjoong began to tremble, gathering Seonghwa into his lap and curling around him tightly, protectively. Hongjoong said nothing more, he only held Seonghwa as he cried. As they both cried, as they grieved. 

Seonghwa would never- could never forgive himself for losing San. 

“We’ll get him back” Hongjoong whispered suddenly, Seonghwa took a shuddering breath, eyes still watering heavily.

“We can’t, his wings were- Hongjoong his wings were in tatters” Seonghwa said brokenly, Hongjoong leaned back, not fully parting from Seonghwa as he did. 

“We’ll find a way, no matter what. We promised each other forever, five years ago” Hongjoong said, gaze burning and jaw tight. “Things are changing Seonghwa, the wards were burnt up at the gates of the Pearl and Emerald Cities. The Council is already calling for a witch hunt, they think it’s a Nephilim that’s doing it” he said, Seonghwa startled. 

“A Nephilim? H-how?” he said, astonished. 

“Someone must be helping them, it’s just a question of who” Hongjoong said, it wasn’t unheard of for a Nephilim to hold a grudge against the Elysian. But for a Nephilim to go so far as to destroy ancient wards that protect the cities. It was practically impossible for someone without wings to get to Elysian as well. The cloud was difficult to get through with cargo, let alone another person. Plus, security was tight here. The idea that someone was able to get through the cloud, the guardians, and the wards was a terrifying thing. 

“What do we do?” Seonghwa asked, gripping Hongjoong’s sleeve. 

“Right now, I need you to take your diplomats seat and get as much information as you can. I’m going to keep an eye out for any holes in the guard, as for San he...he’ll just have to hang on, we’ll get him back as soon as things are sorted here” Hongjoong said, Seonghwa knew what they taught in school. But he also knew the truth. The Sanctuary on Earth was where Elysian’s who have fallen go to live out their days, wings don’t truly heal enough to make it through the cloud. No one actually makes it back after falling. San...San was spunky, he had gumption. So maybe...just maybe they didn’t have to worry. Maybe San would come back to them in time. Seonghwa curled into Hongjoong’s chest, please come back to us. Please. 

San hated it here. Earth was stuffy and bright, there was so much dirt everywhere. Elysian was clean, everything was marble and glass there. The gardens were enclosed, everything else was cobble and quartz. Pleasing to the eye, beautiful. Down here it was like a child's drawing, everything chunky and out of place. San didn’t like it at all. Especially with the way Wooyoung drove, binding San’s wings did little to help keep from jostling him as they passed through a forest that was all winding roads and rocks. 

Their destination was probably the most Elysian thing San had seen since his crash landing. Although it didn’t give San much hope. Wooyoung pulled into a black square clearing outside a vast, tall building that was all pillars and glass. Wooyoung turned off his contraption that he’d explained was called a ‘truck’, he said it was one of the first and few things the Elysian people he met asked about. He then went on to blabber about how similar Elysian and Earthen cities were, San tuned him out after that. Earth and Elysian were nothing alike. 

Wooyoung got out of the truck and came around to help San out. While San would have rejected the offer he was still in bad shape, so the moment he stepped onto the black top his legs began to tremble. Wooyoung kept an arm around him, careful of his wings as they hobbled toward the building. 

“The Sanctuary has been pretty quiet the past few years, so you’ll get to pick pretty much any room you want. But we do have a few dozen residents” Wooyoung said. They call them residents. San almost rolled his eyes. 

They passed through a pair of glass doors into a sort of lobby, it was kind of small with a wide circular desk in the middle of the space. There were metal doors on either side of it as well as chairs in rows flanking each one. A woman sat at the desk, she smiled when she saw Wooyoung and then leveled San with a curious if tender look. It was similar to the one Wooyoung had worn the first time they met. San didn’t like it. 

“Is he going to the B section?” the woman asked, already reaching for a phone on her desk. 

“No, we’ll take him in the A section” Wooyoung said, 

“Oh? Don’t you and Jongho have your hands full?” the woman asked, 

“Not really, we had a few transfers after last summer” Wooyoung said, the woman hummed as she pressed a button behind her desk. 

“I’ll let Jongho know that you’re coming in, one injured male pick up in hand” the woman said, the door to the left slid open. 

“Thanks Sooyun” Wooyoung said, guiding San toward the door. San didn’t like being referred to like that but he didn’t say anything, following Wooyoung to the door. It was a small room instead of a doorway, when they stepped in the door behind them slid shut. San glanced around, the burn of a ward on the wall in front of them caught his attention. It lit up, then the wall opened up like a set of doors. Another lobby appeared beyond them, this one bigger and leading to a sort of court yard. There were more pillars, a fountain, some palm plants and another circular desk. 

“That was an Elysian ward” San said quietly, grunting a bit when Wooyoung scooted them into a motion. 

“Yeah, they protect the Sanctuary from the Infernal. It also keeps the place hidden from human eyes” Wooyoung explained, San gave him a sidelong glance. That’s why he was so pretty. 

“You’re Nephilim” San said, a statement rather than a question. Wooyoung smiled as they continued their hobble-walk, 

“I am, my mother was human” he said, they went into a far hallway. The walls were white and the lights were softer than fluorescent but still bright, San watched where they were going now. Down past many doors until they reached another set of doubles, also glass. Through them San could see rows of white beds, curtains, trays and shelves of things. There was no one in sight. 

Wooyoung pushed the door open with his foot and helped San through, then down to the closest bed. San practically collapsed onto it, taking a moment to regulate his breathing. It still hurt to do that, no blood now though. 

“Jongho? You here?” Wooyoung called, moving down the line of beds. 

“He’s up in residency, did you need something?” a voice said, San peered around the curtain next to his bed. A man with a narrow face met Wooyoung half way, 

“Oh, Eden” Wooyoung said, “I have an intake, he needs to be checked out. Broken wings, possible broken ribs, labored breathing” he said, pointing in San’s direction. San shrunk as the man, Eden, looked his way. Labored breathing? Was it that noticeable? 

“I’ll do it for you, I’m leaving as soon as he gets back anyway. I’ll just pass on the file” Eden said, reaching into his coat as he approached San. San felt himself tensing the closer he got, “how’s your pain on a scale of one to ten?” Eden asked, pulling a stool over from behind the curtain. San’s tongue was stuck to the top of his mouth, he only stared at the stethoscope Eden had pulled out of his coat pocket. Eden glanced at Wooyoung as he put the pieces in his ears, 

“Uh, you never told me your name, huh?” Wooyoung said, sitting on the end of the bed. San glanced at him, then Eden, then Wooyoung again. San tried to cooperate, a little, but he was on edge. He could feel his nails digging into his own arm, anxiety spiking. 

“San” he mumbled finally, Wooyoung lit up. 

“San! That’s so cool, mountain” he said, he sounded so excited San was momentarily distracted from his anxiety. “How old are you?” Wooyoung asked, San tried to remember. But Eden was watching him, so Wooyoung but it felt different. Eden’s gaze was watchful in a way that made San feel like he was under a microscope, Wooyoung’s gaze was warm and curious. San felt at ease beneath it. Or as at ease as he could be right then. 

“I’m...I’m twenty five” San murmured, Wooyoung grinned. 

“Me too!” he said excitedly, San stared at him. He was so loud, and bright. Like the sun. 

“San” Eden said, startling San out of his slight reverie. “I’d like to check the extent of the damage, could you take off your shirt for me? I can ask Wooyoung to leave if you’re more comfortable with that” he said, San shifted. 

“No...no he can stay” he murmured, Wooyoung smiled at him. San reached for the edge of his nightshirt, sullied and torn. His clothes were the only real reminder of what had happened last night, San was almost glad to be rid of it as he struggled to pull his shirt off and toss it aside. Then he immediately wished he still had it, because what was beneath it made him want to cry. 

The bruises had bloomed darkly across his skin, the imprint of the street light was clear against his ribs. As were the handprints and talons of the Infernal. San’s breathing was uneven, he gripped at the paper sheets beneath him a bit frantically. Looking for purchase, anything that would keep him from falling out right then. 

A hand touched his knees, startling San almost violently. 

“San” Wooyoung, that was Wooyoung. San looked at him, he was a stranger but he was real. He wasn’t a part of that memory, he was a part of this memory. San could cling to that, he could let those big eyes fish him out of those murky waters. Anything, anything to bring him out how horribly cold he felt right now. San reached out, Wooyoung didn’t hesitate to let San crawl into his lap, gripping his shirt with shaking hands. 

“He must have really fought back, they did a number on him” Eden murmured, San buried his face in Wooyoung’s shirt, breathing deeply. Wooyoung had a distinct smell, almost fruity, like a teenager girl’s perfume. It was nothing like Seonghwa or Hongjoong, San choked on a sob at the realization that he’d never have anything like them again. Wooyoung stroked a hand down San’s side, 

“Eden’s gotta look at your wings, okay? He’s gonna clean them up for you” Wooyoung said quietly, San stiffened up. 

“No, no I don’t- I don’t want him to- no” San scrambled closer to Wooyoung, further away from Eden. 

“It looks like a botched clipping, they’ll need to be bound for a couple months. There’s only a tear in the base of the left one so we’ll only need to bandage that one by the looks of it, just take him to his room and have him take a shower. See if he’ll let you bandage the tear and have Jongho bind them, there aren’t any bones we have to remove right now. If they become a pain later in life, we can take them off then. For now we won’t touch them” Eden said, San squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t take this, he needed Seonghwa, he needed Hongjoong. No one was allowed to touch his wings. No one. But...they were battered, broken...clipped. San swallowed the bile in his throat, his wings had been clipped.   
“San, can you stand?” Wooyoung asked, still holding him. Could he? Sure. Did he want to? No. But Wooyoung was already shifting him off his lap, helping him up. San didn’t let go of his shirt, wings shaking a bit in their binding. “Thanks Eden” Wooyoung said, taking a yellow folder from the man in the coat. 

“Sure, I’m going to be on the B side for a few weeks. There were a few intakes this morning, something must have happened up there” Eden said, adjusting his coat. San tightened his hold on Wooyoung’s shirt, something...something did happen. San saw it, he saw all of it. 

“Yeah, well, good luck. We’ll see you when we see you” Wooyoung said, already scooting San out of the room. “Do you want a room that’s on a higher level?” Wooyoung asked, his tone was even, calm. Conversational. All the while San was clinging to him like some kind of animal. Even then, he couldn’t pull himself away. There was some comfort in clinging to Wooyoung like this. 

“I don’t care” San whispered, 

“You sure? We have all the way up to level twenty” Wooyoung said, they were scooting through that enclosed courtyard and into another metal box. This time, though, it shifted into motion when the doors slid closed. San stared hard at the ground, willing it to stop. His stomach was rising into his throat, or maybe that was puke. “If you prefer to be alone I could put you on a lower level, but there’s some guys on level ten. I think you’d like them” Wooyoung said, San swallowed profusely, bile rolling into his mouth. The box stopped, the doors slid open. “It’s up to you, though. You can move rooms too, so when you’re more comfortable you can-” San pushed away from Wooyoung as they moved out into a hall full of floor to ceiling windows, and trash cans. One of which San grabbed onto once he was close enough, he bowed over and wretched into it. “Ah, you’ve got motion sickness. That happens sometimes” Wooyoung said, San’s stomach clenched as he emptied it into the trash can. He coughed, body feeling weak as he tried to straighten back up. 

“Ugh...I don’t-” San hiccuped, “I don’t care what floor I’m on, I want to be alone. I’m going to die alone on this miserable dirt clump, so leave me to die that way” he snapped, drooling a bit. Wooyoung didn’t seem phased, he only smiled a bit as he helped San stand back up right. 

“Sure, let’s find you a nice room to do that in then” he said softly, San had no fight in him. He let Wooyoung drag him down to a room, barely taking in the layout as Wooyoung led him in. It was a mostly white room with soft blue accents, the bed and dresser a darker blue than the rest. There was a window that oversaw some kind of garden that San hadn’t seen from the outside. There was a small table, a chair, a book shelf, and a flat square of black on the wall. There was another door that led to a bathroom too. “I know you don’t want to, but the sooner we get your wings clean and bind them the sooner you can be left alone” Wooyoung said, San watched the bed get further away and lamented the loss when he was brought into the bathroom. 

It was kind of small, not too cramped, but small enough that when Wooyoung tried to help San with his pants he had to jam himself into the space by the toilet. 

“I can do it” San muttered, kicking his clothes off. He didn’t care anymore, he wanted this over with. He wanted to get into that ugly bed and go to sleep and never wake up. 

“Okay, I’ll start the water” Wooyoung said, that infuriating smile on his face all the while. San wasn’t wearing underwear, he remembered why. But he quickly pushed the thought aside, the memories were all too fresh. San heard the shower turn on behind him, before long the room was full of steam. “Let me know if it’s too hot” Wooyoung said, his back turned to San. Offering him some decency as San slowly climbed into the tub and sat down despite the spray of the showerhead. It was a little too hot, but San liked the way it burned. He liked that he could feel his skin again. 

“It’s fine” San said, closing his eyes as he put his head into the stream. 

“Alright, let me know if anything hurts too much and I’ll stop. I just want to get the dirt out of your feathers and check for any more wounds, I’ll bind them like I did earlier but Jongho will probably come by soon to bind them properly” Wooyoung said, San didn’t say anything more. Letting the water drown out any more noise. Wooyoung set to it. He began combing through San’s feathers, picking out chunks of stone and weeds, scrubbing out dirt carefully. The pain was a constant throb but it began to worsen as Wooyoung went, San only gritted his teeth and bit back any sounds that threatened to breach his mouth. 

Wooyoung dragged a hand carefully from the back of San’s neck down his back, through the numbing pain there was a zing of pleasure and San’s throat began to thicken. He didn’t say anything, he let Wooyoung continue his ministrations. Every so often pleasure would tingle in the midst of the pain and San felt himself harden, but with the flush of pleasure came a flood of emotion. The ghost of hands, familiar and teasing, they haunted him. San bowed forward as a noise finally escaped him, a sob. 

“Does it hurt?” Wooyoung asked, concerned. San didn’t say anything, reaching between his legs to stroke himself pitifully. He had no more dignity to offer Wooyoung, but Wooyoung didn’t shy away or mock him. In fact, he didn’t offer much reaction at all. All he did was continue cleaning San’s wings, letting San sob and jerk off under the spray of the shower. 

It was too hot and too cold all at once, the palm of San’s hand felt too rough. But the palm of Wooyoung’s hand along the base of his good wing was perfect. San finished with a choked off sob, legs trembling as cum splattered his thigh. Wooyoung reached up, angling the showerhead down so he could wash it off. He seemed to have finished with his wings too. 

“Come on” Wooyoung whispered, helping San to unsteady feet. Wooyoung got him out of the shower, into a robe he pulled from under the sink that was a little too big, and out into the room. It was a little chilly but San welcomed the sting of cold on his skin. “Your wings are in better condition than we thought so I won’t bind them right now, just make sure to lay on your side until Jongho comes to set them” Wooyoung said, pushing the blankets back so San could get into them. San blinked sluggishly, 

“They’re...will they heal so I can...go home?” San asked, voice a rasp. 

“I’m sorry, they’re still clipped” Wooyoung said softly, San swallowed the lump in his throat. He climbed into the bed and fell onto his side, limbs strewn. Wooyoung pulled the blanket over him, “just rest, call out if you need anything. I’ll be up and down the hall for a while” he said, resting a hand against the side of San’s head before leaving all together. San listened to his steps get further away, then the door clicked shut. San was alone...far more alone than he ever thought he’d be. The tears that rolled over the bridge of his nose were silent and full, melancholy and thick with grief. San closed his eyes and the nightmare that lived there replayed once more.


	3. Shaking the Pieces out of the Box

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uwaaahh!! More people!!! More stuff! Angst? Perhaps!!   
> I hope you're all well, all my love, mwah!

It’s too quiet. San’s entire body is a single bruise. Or at least, it feels that way. It didn’t matter, he hadn’t moved from the spot Wooyoung had left him in hours. He didn’t plan on moving, even the ache of needing to go to the bathroom went unnoticed. San had been replaying the night over and over in his brain, he was fried. His forehead felt hot, like an old movie player. Overused, exhausted, burnt. 

San was clinging to images, Seonghwa and Hongjoong. Their faces, their wings, the shape of their mouths when they spoke. Any memory San could conjure, he clung to them. Almost desperate. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears leaking between the lashes, lips trembling. The memories began to melt together, the fear of last night overpowering all else. San felt his heart rate picking up, sweat building on his brow. San gripped the blanket around him tightly, wings twinging painfully. San grinded his face into the pillow beneath his head, almost trying to suffocate himself. Almost wishing he could. It was too much, it was all too much. 

There was a click, San startled. 

“San? My name’s Jongho, Wooyoung let me know that you needed your wings set” a voice said, San could hardly breathe, still sweating profusely. He offered no response but listened to steps approach slowly. “Just let me know if anything hurts too much, Wooyoung asked me to bring you lunch and some pain killers too if you want to take them or eat before I start” he offered, there was the distinct sound of something being set on wood. San was still calming his heart, brain swimming in blackened memory, breathing just shy of erratic. There’s a long stretch of silence, San’s breathing betraying him. “It feels like a lot, suffocating, right?” Jongho murmured, San swallowed the spit in his mouth. “I know you don’t want anyone to touch you but if I don’t set your wings, they’ll heal in worse condition than they are now” he said, moving closer. 

San squeezed his eyes closed again, taking a shuddering breath. He shifted, pulling the blanket over himself and off his wings, exposing his back. The robe was cut just like the ones on Elysian, made for his kind. Jongho had full access to his messed up wings this way. 

“Tell me if it hurts too much, the painkillers are here if you want them too” Jongho said, shifting behind San some. The first touch of his hands was tentative, feeling along the bone. San kept his eyes closed, gripping the blanket with trembling hands. Jongho was careful, far more practiced than Wooyoung. He adjusted each bone carefully, combing San’s feathers with the grain and settling the entirety of each wing against each other and something cold before binding them tightly. It was borderline too tight, painful but that was a given. His wings were broken...clipped. “You did very well, how do they feel?” Jongho asked, San shifted a bit. He had calmed down substantially but he still wasn’t very forthcoming, he did offer a small if muttered, ‘fine’, however. “Fine is better than bad, I guess” Jongho hummed, San didn’t hear him shift or walk away. He was still right behind him showing no signs of leaving it seemed. Unlike Wooyoung, who San flip flopped between pulling closer and pushing away, Jongho was difficult to approach in any way. Mostly because San hadn’t known him longer than twenty minutes. But also because Jongho just seemed...less amicable in some way. 

“What do you want from me?” San murmured, 

“What do you think I want from you?” Jongho asked, the question made something angry grow in San’s chest. San looked over his shoulder, sneering. 

“I think you want me to be some happy go lucky hospital patient for you to poke at” he snapped, Jongho’s expression was more or less neutral. He almost seemed amused. San took a good look at him, the more he studied him the angrier he became. Jongho wasn’t Elysian pretty, not like Wooyoung. Jongho was human pretty. He had tanned skin and dark eyes, full features and dark hair. His ears were too big, San’s petty brain supplied. Looking at him, despite being Nephilim, being half of what San was, he looked so- so human. Like he belonged here, where San didn’t. It was borderline infuriating. 

“Sure, if that’s what you think” Jongho said, already pacing to the dresser where a tray of food sat. He picked it up and came back over, he pulled the chair from the desk and sat down. He held the tray of food on his knee, settling back like he was going to eat it himself. San glowered at him, “the food isn’t great here, I sneak in a lot of stuff for people if you ever want something different” Jongho said, 

“I don’t need your bribe” San spat, laying back down and curling away from him. 

“I wasn’t bribing you, I wasn’t even offering if I’m being honest. I only sneak stuff in for the people I care about, I don’t care about you” Jongho said, a bit of a snort in his voice. San startled a bit at his words. They didn’t...hurt. They were just that, startling. Wooyoung made it a point to show that he cared, he’d known San all of a few hours and he’d poured his heart into caring for him. Jongho...Jongho just made it clear he didn’t care. “I work here because it’s a job I can’t get anywhere else, being half Elysian has its perks once in a while. But every time we pick one of you up it’s the same thing, your uppity, snotty, holier than thou attitude is exhausting. So you can stay here, be bitter till you die, and I’ll still do my job and take care of you. Because that’s all it is, a job” Jongho said, fiddling with a wrapper. 

San was nearly choking on his spit as he sat up, turning around fully now. He could feel how hot his face was, tears filling his eyes. 

“I just lost e-everything that I’ve ever l-loved, everyone-everyone I’ve ever loved-” San’s chest was unbearably tight, “and you want to sit here and t-tell me that I’m being a prick? That I’m being s-snotty? You’re snotty! I knew you didn’t care, I didn’t n-need to hear it. Everyone that’s ever cared about me is miles-miles away, and I’m probably never, ever going to see them a-again” San could hardly breathe, almost drooling as he tried to spit his words at Jongho. Jongho was munched on a cookie that didn’t belong to him and didn’t look the least bit bothered. San wanted to throw something at him, 

“I know” Jongho said, tone much softer now as he put the cookie down and put the tray aside. “You needed to acknowledge that, you were going to lay here and live in that for the rest of your life if you didn’t get it out” he said, San was still catching his breath and sucking back snot but he squinted at Jongho hard. 

“Get out” he muttered, falling back into bed, the jostle to his wings and pain be damned. 

“I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow, get some rest” Jongho said, San ignored him, pulling his blanket over his head so he could cry in peace. This time San could hear him walk away, open the door, and pull it shut behind himself. 

Ugly sobs wrenched themselves from San’s throat for a long while, but eventually...they stopped. When they did, and San laid under the blanket, he hated to admit that maybe he felt just a little better. Saying it, instead of letting it live in his head or his chest, it felt better that way. San would never admit that though. 

Wooyoung came and went as the days did, changing San’s bandages and coaxing him into drinking or eating something. San often didn’t, when he did it was meager. But he spent his time lying in bed, leaning by the window, or sitting in the shower under an almost unbearably hot stream of water. 

Jongho also came once in a while, checking the progress of San’s healing and the set of his wings. He didn’t talk much, San was grateful that he had some manners after their first meeting. 

San wasn’t sure how much time had passed when someone came creeping by his room, whispering by the door. San was sitting by the window, legs folded on the table top beneath him as he peered down at the treetops that swayed with a breeze he couldn’t feel. He heard the scuffle of feet first, they moved past San’s door and then paused before coming back. They did this a few times, enough times that San turned his head to watch the shadow of them pass back and forth before they paused by the knob. Then there was the whispering, San could hardly make it out. Then the knob turned, San pulled his knees closer to his chest. Maybe it was Wooyoung...no, Wooyoung always came in like he owned the place. Who-

The door opened just a crack, someone peaked in. San peered at about Wooyoung’s height but stared at someone’s clavicle, San moved his gaze up and met a pair of dark eyes beneath a pale fringe. The eyes blinked, widened, and then the person they belonged to closed the door as quickly as he could without catching his nose in it. San frowned, watching the shadow of the feet scatter. There was more than one person at the door, the whispering became hisses as they panicked. They’d been caught. 

“Whatever you want, come in and ask. You’re being annoying” San called, tucking himself closer to the window. The scattering slowed and then stopped, the whispering got a little louder. San could hear them now, 

“-just go in, he’s already seen you” a voice said, 

“I didn’t want to bother him if he looked angry, he looks angry” another voice murmured, San scoffed. He wasn’t angry until they bothered him. He didn’t say anything though, he continued to look out the window. They continued to whisper a bit, then the door opened again. San didn’t even bother looking this time, letting whoever was there come in. 

“Um, hi. Sorry if we bothered” a voice said, San continued to ignore him. “I’m Yunho, we’re down the hall neighbors but we haven’t met yet...until now! Until now, anyway um…” his voice dwindled, San’s ignorance to him seeming to put him off. “We- er, there’s more of us, out in the hall I mean. And down the hall, we all live on this floor together uh, but we wanted to give you this” San finally spared him a glance, without the door in the way San could finally get a good look at him. 

He was tall, his hair was tinged pink and pale. His face was soft and pale too, high, round cheeks almost as pink as his hair as he let San regard him. He wore the same clothes San did, but he wore a bracelet on his left hand too. San only noticed it because he was holding a shoebox. San nodded, Yunho inched forward with a small smile to set the box on his bed. San tucked his face into his arms, tracing the shape of Yunho’s lips briefly as he seemed to figure out what to say. They curled upward, they were pretty and pink too. 

“It’s just some stuff we made, you don’t have to keep it. Everyone’s name is on what they made, so you know who it’s from. I put something in there too” Yunho said, patting his legs as he backed up a few steps. San noticed that his wings were oddly small, barely peeking over his shoulders. San moved his gaze away from them, peering at the showbox. San’s name was scrawled across the top in glittery letters. Wooyoung must have told them his name. 

“Okay” San said, turning back to his window. 

“We’re also going to play poker tonight, Wooyoung lets us have the rec-room to ourselves after hours so it’s quiet. You don’t have to come but I just thought I’d offer” Yunho said, San decided to ignore him then. “I know it sounds weird but we’re glad you’re here” he said, San’s brows drew in. As he processed the words he felt anger well inside of him, he lifted his head. 

“Glad? You’re glad I’m here?” he said, the spite clear in his voice as he leveled a nearly venomous gaze on Yunho. Yunho only smiled, gaze tender. 

“Better here than dead or wandering along out there, right?” he said, voice quieting. San scoffed, 

“Yeah, sometimes I wonder” he muttered, hiding the lower half of his face in his arms again. 

“I used to too,” Yunho said, going back to the door. “We’re down the hall if you need anything, Wooyoung is around too” he said just before the door closed and San was alone, staring out his window. 

It wasn’t long before his curiosity did pull at him, he shifted by the windowsill and turned to glance at the shoebox on his bed. The goddy lettering, the frayed edges, how long had he even had the thing? San stretched his legs out, lips pursed as he scooted down toward it. It was probably full of some dumb stuff, like that bracelet he had on. All twisted thread and beads. Or maybe some kind of paper mache, or whatever kids made for other kids they wanted to be friends with. 

San reached out, gripping the top of the box. It took some shaking but he got the top off, the bottom falling onto his bed with a soft noise. San leaned over, putting the top aside as he peered in. He squinted a bit, unsure if he was seeing things right. He reached in, moving things around. As he did, he slowly became sure and felt emotion swell in his chest.   
There was an Elysian designed feather comb, carved from jade and embedded with pearls. It was gorgeous, even prettier than the one Seonghwa bought him on their seventh date. The one San had wished he had everyday since he’d been here. San picked it up, turning it over in his hands. It was smooth, cool to the touch. San put it back and spotted a little velvet sack in the corner of the box. He reached for it, whatever was inside clicked together like stones. He opened it up and peered inside and felt his eyes fill with tears. 

Elysian didn’t have beaches, not like Earth did. But they had pools where you could swim and sunbathe and San loved them. At the bottom of them there were these little stones, like sea glass but prettier. They were blue and white and gorgeous. San used to swim down and snatch them up all the time, he could recognize them anywhere. There were at least five of them in here, a little scraped up but still as shiny and pretty as they were at the bottom of those pools. San shook them into his palm, rolling them around and closing his eyes. The tears squeezed past his lashes, wetting his cheeks as he tried to remember all the times he’d gone swimming with Seonghwa and Hongjoong. All the times he’d picked up stones just like this to show them. 

San sniffed, sliding the stones back into the bag before placing them carefully into the box. There was only a book left, a word written in Elysian. San almost recognized it, when he lifted the book and flipped it open he was sure then. 

‘Historical Sights of Elysian’. It was only a history book, boring. But Seonghwa had one in his study back home, San had passed it a hundred times. Now, as he thumbed through the pictures, he felt that ache in his chest ease. Dragging his fingertips along the pages, memorizing the land marks, the places he himself had been. When he’d gotten tired of that he leaned over to put the book back but paused. In the bottom of the box there was one more thing. Almost as if San had predicted it, there was a bracelet tucked on top of a folded piece of paper. It looked just like the one Yunho had been wearing but this one was grey, white, and black with three letter beads in the middle. 

San put the book aside, reaching in and fishing out the bracelet. He turned it over into his other hand, peering at it. Yunho’s had been pink, the letters must have been his name. San picked up the piece of paper and unfolded it, it was a short letter in Elysian shorthand. San rolled the bracelet methodically in his free hand as he read. 

‘Hi San, it’s Yunho. We probably haven’t talked much, Wooyoung said you’re having a tough time adjusting but I hope this stuff helps. The comb is from Yeosang and the stones are from Mingi, the book is from Wooyoung and the bracelet is from me. Sorry I couldn’t give you anything from Elysian, I haven’t owned anything from there in a long time. I hope we’ll get to hang out soon and I hope you’re able to settle in comfortably, sincerely, floor Ten.’ 

San put the letter down, peering at the bracelet. He could tell it was handmade, San almost wondered how long Yunho had been here. He also wondered who the others were, the rest of this floor Ten. For now, though, he tucked everything back into the box and set it on his table. A nap sounded way too good right about now. 

~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~

The very first time San finally ventures out of his room is maybe a week later. He can’t take it anymore, being in that room by himself. But he also isn’t ready to start palling around with the rest of floor Ten. They didn’t seek him out again, either. San was grateful to be left alone, but he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty after all the nice things they’d given him. 

San couldn’t really clean his own wings, but sometimes he pulled out the comb this Yeosang person had given him just to touch it or admire it. The stones too. The history book spent most of the time out of the box, though. San read it before bed, during most of his meals, when he was bored. He’d practically memorized it by now. He never got tired of it, though. San could hardly recall his home, or any of the places he visited unless they were in that book. It was the only thing tying him to Elysian anymore. 

That aside, though, San was antsy. His healing was coming along so moving around didn’t hurt as much, even if he still had to take it slow. So it was a few hours after dinner that he decided to try and make a break for the rec room on their floor. It had to be mostly empty by now. So San crept down the hall toward the elevators, following the signs he’d seen on his first day here down to the very end of the hall. 

The double doors were closed so San peaked in through the windows. There were tables and vending machines, a ping pong table, more windows, a tv, some book shelves and even a little bean bag nook around them. It was kind of cute, not really San’s style. It felt more like an old folks home if he was honest. But it was better than his room. And there was no one inside. San pushed the left door open, stepping in and peering around just to make sure he hadn’t missed anyone. Sure enough he was alone. 

San paced to the book nook, curious to see if there was anything worth reading. It wasn’t something San usually spent his time doing, but he’d spent so much time reading his history book he’d taken a liking to it. He knelt on the carpet in front of the shelves, peering over the spines of the books. Most of them were in Elysian, but a few were in whatever Earth languages they wrote books in. San recognized one of the Elysian books, though. It was a kids book his mom used to read him. He plucked it off the shelf, scooting back and sitting cross legged. He laid the book out in his lap, pursing his lips at the frayed binding before reading through the first story. 

It was full of all sorts of stories but there was on in particular that San liked the most. It was the one that was painted on his old bedroom back on Elysian, the one that reminded him the most of Seonghwa and Hongjoong. ‘The Phoenix, the Peacock, and the Pigeon’. 

There was a reason this story was so important to him. San’s wings weren’t pretty, he never thought they were pretty. Kids at school used to call San names because of it, one of which stuck well beyond grade school. Pigeon Feathers. San hated the nickname, he hated the fact that his wings were common pigeon wings. Hongjoong and Seonghwa always begged to differ, though. Seonghwa was the one who brought up the story, even if San’s mom had read it to him since he was young. Because in the story, the three birds are lined up before the king for a special job. Only one will be chosen. 

The Phoenix is brilliant, smart, but at times burns too bright. The Peacock is gorgeous, captivating, but often cares for its feathers more than anything. The Pigeon, however, doesn’t gloat or burn or flaunt. The Pigeon is just right. So in the end, the king picks the Pigeon for the job. The Pigeon is hailed a hero, fulfills its purpose, and is written into history. 

San found comfort in the story, even if he didn’t buy into it the way they wanted him to. He was so immersed he didn’t even hear the door to the rec room open, or the steps approach him. It wasn’t until the person they belonged to was lingering much too close that San happened to glance up. When he did his heart jumped into his throat at the sight of a very tall man with large eyes peering down at him. San pulled the book up to his chest slowly, gripping it tightly as he stared at the man. 

He wasn’t saying anything, just sort of blinking at San. He seemed almost lost, sleepy even. He had a mop of red hair and dark eyes, a small nose with a nice slope, full lips and high cheekbones. He would have been cute if hadn’t scared the actual crap out of San. San was still holding the book to his chest, seconds were passing as this tall stranger stared down at him in his half asleep stupor. San scanned his body briefly, he noticed the man’s wings. They were huge, hooking over his shoulders a bit. They were almost as red as his hair, though San could see the mix of orange and amber in the feathers even from where he sat. San dragged his gaze down and then it lit on the man’s wrist, he wore a bracelet. It was just like the one Yunho wore except this one was all red. San shifted where he sat, not moving the book just yet. 

“Are you...are you a friend of Yunho’s?” San asked carefully, scared of startling this man in case he was somehow crazed. San didn’t know the kind of people they kept here. Considering how horrific his experience had been he wouldn’t put it past some people to actually go insane. The man blinked slowly then seemed to focus a bit at the mention of Yunho’s name. He mumbled something, San squinted a bit. “I can’t understand you” he said, the man took a step forward and San lurched backwards. 

San prepared himself for anything. An attack, for the man to collapse, for him to speak up. What he didn’t prepare for, though, was for him to shuffle a bit closer and lower himself to the ground beside San. He still towered over San but he was a little less daunting this way, in fact, when he blinked at San and then the book in his lap San was reminiscent of a big kid. 

“Can I read with you?” the man asked, speaking up a bit now that he was closer. His voice was deep, kind of raspy too. It was San’s turn to blink, he glanced at the book. 

“Uh...sure” he murmured, uncertain of this stranger still. Either way, though, he shifted the book over so he could see and flipped to the first story so they could both read. San was a bit stiff, sitting straight to avoid bumping elbows with the man beside him. But as time went on, sinking into the story, he began to slouch. Mostly backward, but his wings twinged painfully and forced to to either side. He tried his right for a while, leaning on his palm. But that quickly grew painful, so he leaned to his left and accidentally into the other man’s shoulder. “Ah, sorry” San said, shifting away. 

“It’s okay...do your wings still hurt a lot?” the man asked, San hesitated. He’d maintained his pissy, aloof persona thus far but he just...didn’t feel like being mean to this guy. He seemed so gentle and genuinely concerned. Not that Wooyoung wasn’t, or Yunho. But he had those big eyes and every time San looked into them the thought of upsetting him kind of made him feel bad. So he hunched forward a bit, 

“Yeah, but they’re better than they were” San answered truthfully, the man nodded. 

“Jongho’s a really good doctor, he made my wings better too. I can move them pretty good now” the man said, leaning as far forward as he could to stretch his wings out. San scooted back to get a look at them and his jaw dropped when he did. 

They were, in fact, huge. How San hadn’t taken a look out of sheer curiosity before he didn’t know, but he was glad he could see them now as the man stretched them out for full effect. They were easily the size of the double doors across the room, deep red with swirls of amber and orange. Reminiscent of flames, San could only imagine what this guy looked like soaring across the sky. 

“Can you fly?” San asked, awed and resisting the urge to reach out and touch. It was a terrible habit Seonghwa had taken years to train him out of. He was proud he didn’t need to sit on his hands right now. The man shook his head, folding his wings against his back again. 

“They don’t work like that anymore” he said with a shrug of his shoulders, San was still staring at his wings. It was a shame, a horrific shame. They were gorgeous, the fact that they had no use now was a crime. “They’re good for swimming, though. And fanning, swatting stuff off tables too” he named, rocking on his butt as he gripped his feet. San eyed him a bit, he really did remind him of a giant kid. 

“Wings are good for flying” San said with a bit of a press in his voice, the man peered at him. 

“Yeah, but when things aren’t good for what they were good for you’ve gotta find new things they’re good for. You don’t just throw them away” he said, San looked away from him, staring down at the book they’d left on the floor for a moment. 

“Sometimes you have to throw them away, they aren’t good for anything” he said, voice quieting. 

“Why not keep them just to keep them, then?” the man asked, San’s brows pulled together as he looked at him again. Somehow, San had no argument. He could say because that’s clutter, because why keep something broken? But what point was there? They were both there, neither of them could fly, they’d both lost the same thing. And yet...one of them seemed far more content than the other. San began picking at invisible threads on his pants. He thought about the things in his shoebox, the comb, the stones, the book, and the bracelet. San knew Wooyoung and Yunho, but he hadn’t met Yeosang or Mingi. Between the comb and the stones, San had a pretty strong guess as to who had gifted him what. San turned his head, peering at the red haired man once more. 

“Mingi” San wagered a guess, the man stopped rocking and blinked at San. 

“How’d you know my name?” he asked, San couldn’t help the smile. 

“You seem like the kind of person to hold onto pool stones during an emergency” he said, a bit sardonic. Mingi returned the smile, if a bit tentative. 

“They were in my jacket pocket when I fell, I didn’t even mean to hold onto them. When I found them, though, I cried for hours. They were all I had left of home” he said, toeing at the carpet a bit. San blinked, 

“Why did you give them to me?” he asked, astonished. He’d never give up something that important. Mingi shrugged, 

“They comforted me for a long time, helped me remember home. After a while, though, I didn’t need to. This became my home. So I figured they’d do some good for someone else. For you, hopefully” he met San’s gaze, San curled his hands in his pant leg tightly. Why was everyone here so nice…

San had been nothing but petty and rude since he got here. He could feel the guilt eating at him, he hadn’t even thanked them for any of the things they’d given him. 

“Thank you” San whispered, voice catching. Mingi reached out, gently tugging San’s hands from his pant leg. He hadn’t even noticed but he’d been shaking, gripping too tightly.

“You’re welcome” Mingi said simply, petting San’s hands until his fingers had loosened and the shaking stopped. They stayed that way a while, Mingi’s ministrations lulling San nearly to sleep. He was startled out of his stupor when someone came into the rec room, though. 

“There you are Princess, I brought you desert but you- oh!” San straightened up as Wooyoung slowed his steps toward them, blinking in San’s direction curiously. He had a peculiar smile on his lip. San was still processing the word ‘Princess’. “San, you’re out of your room. Miracles do happen” Wooyoung said, San shifted uncomfortably. 

“We were reading, sorry I didn’t tell you where I was going” Mingi said as he stood up, Wooyoung smiled at him. 

“Don’t worry about it, the others are wondering where you went though” he said, patting Mingi on the lower back as he passed. “I have an extra dessert if you want it, San. You can eat it here or with the others, in your room, wherever” Wooyoung offered, San hesitated. 

Talking to Mingi had been nice, but San still wasn’t ready to be around a whole lot of people. He got up, 

“I’m okay, thanks though” San said finally, picking up his book with a slight wince as his wings jostled. 

“He even said thank you, I need to watch our for flying pigs” Wooyoung murmured, going to the doors of the rec room. “You don’t have leave, either. No one will be down here the rest of the night, it was therapy day so everyone’s pretty laid up” Wooyoung said over his shoulder, San glanced at the book in his hands. He considered it, he was actually kind of tired and he wanted to play with the stones Mingi gave him. 

“It’s alright, I’m tired anyway” San said, putting his book away. Wooyoung nodded, 

“Alright, have a good night San” he said, San gave him a half smile. Wooyoung seemed content with that, leaving the rec room finally. San let his fingers linger against the spine of the book for a long moment. Something Hongjoong used to say came to mind. 

‘If you aren’t willing to work for it, it’ll never work for you’. San wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be working for, but he had an inkling. He didn’t like it either. San finally moved away from the book shelf, well and truly tired now. Tomorrow...he’d talk to someone. A real, genuine conversation. He didn’t know who, but he’d talk to someone. The anxiety was already making his stomach hurt. But his old life was gone, he wasn’t getting that back. He was here now and he could stay bitter and anger and sad till he died...or, he could find a way to want to live again. Seonghwa and Hongjoong could want that for him more than anything. So...he’d try.


	4. Tables Turned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sannie trying to be a good boy!  
> Enjoy! All my love! <3

There’s a lot more noise in the rec room today, San had been standing outside the doors listening to it for a while now. He’d even peeked in through the windows a few times. He hadn’t gone in for a few reasons. Mostly because he really didn’t recognize anyone inside, and also because he wasn’t sure if he was really all that ready to talk to anyone like he’d promised himself. 

San had attempted to speak to Jongho that morning when he came to check on the state of his wings, but had only gotten as far as a ‘good morning’. He also tried to talk to Wooyoung, but he seemed distracted and San didn’t want to impede. So there he was, standing by the rec room doors like an awkward lurker. 

“San” a voice said behind him, San jolted and back pedaled a bit. He was a bit startled by the appearance of Yunho and Mingi, side by side and...holding hands. 

“H...hello, hi” San said awkwardly, attempting a wave that was just as awkward. Yunho smiled, 

“Were you going to the rec room?” he asked, San hesitated, glancing through the little windows again. So many people…

“Uh...no, no I’m just- I’m going to go back to my room” San said, edging backwards, away from the door. 

“Can I come?” Mingi asked suddenly, San looked at him. Mingi seemed almost perpetually sleepy, but his smile put San at ease. San nodded and inched past them, Mingi hummed as he turned to follow, hand slipping out of Yunho’s. San glanced back at them, 

“You can come too” he said, Yunho lit up. He took Mingi’s hand again and San walked ahead, admittedly at a quicker pace than necessary, but he felt awkward letting them come to his room. Actually, he felt awkward in general. There was just a lot of awkward right now. 

They reached San’s room and he opened the door, stepping inside and sort of just shifting around before he went to his bed to be out of the way. He climbed on, sitting cross legged as Mingi and Yunho entered. Mingi glanced around before plopping down in the center of the room, pulling Yunho down with him onto the carpet. 

“You haven’t put anything up on your walls yet?” Mingi asked, peering around some more. San shook his head, Mingi frowned a bit. Then all at once his face and eyes lit up, “I have some stuff” he bounced to his feet, wings fluttering. “Hold on, I’ll be right back” he hurried to the door, throwing it open before bolting out. San was alone...except, Yunho was there. San shifted on his bed, gripping his ankles a bit. 

“Sorry, he gets over excited sometimes” Yunho apologised, San glanced at him. 

“Oh, it’s fine, he’s nice” he said, Yunho smiled. 

“He is” he agreed, San picked at a stray thread on his blanket. 

“Um, so are you two, you know…” he gestured vaguely, Yunho shrugged a shoulder lightly. 

“Yeah, sorta. Mingi’s an affectionate person, he needs a lot of love. I don’t mind being one of the people to give it to him” he said with a shrug, oh...that made sense. “Were you in a relationship? Before, I mean” Yunho asked, San winced internally. 

“Uh...yeah, I was” he said quietly, swallowing the onslaught of pain. “There were three of us, before” he said, 

“I’m sorry” Yunho said, “that you had to leave them, I’m sure they miss you” he said softly, San was having some difficulty breathing. 

“Yeah...yeah, I miss them too” he pushed the words around the lump in his throat, 

“You don’t have to talk about them, I can tell it still hurts a lot” Yunho said, San swallowed dryly and nodded. Yunho was really nice. 

“Thank you, for the stuff you guys left me. It was really nice of you, I appreciate it” San said, clearing his throat. 

“Oh! I’m glad you liked it” Yunho said, sounding genuinely happy. An awkward, if short, silence fell upon them. Mingi returned soon enough, a pile of magazines and scrapbook paper in his arms. Scissors and tape in hand, too. 

“We can make a collage for you to put up on your wall, of stuff you like” Mingi said, beaming as he plopped down beside Yunho. San scooted off his bed, joining them on the floor as Mingi began laying stuff out. “There’s a lot of stuff you can pick, look, this reminds me of you” Mingi held up a national geographic magazine, folding it open to a page where a little red fox was caught in the camera. San couldn’t help the smile, 

“I like that one, I’ll put it up” he said, reaching for it. They continued to sift through pictures, periodically pointing at pictures that reminded each other of the other. It was actually...fun. Really fun. Yunho didn’t make too much noise, but he contributed to the conversation. Maybe he could sense how slowly San was settling, or how comfortable he was with Mingi. But it went better than San had thought it was going to. By the time someone disturbed them they had put together a nice collage of stuff, it was a little mismatched but San liked it. 

Wooyoung knocked before he came in, 

“San, lunch” he said, backing in with a tray in hand like usual. He turned around and jolted at the sight of Mingi and Yunho, “you have guests!” he trilled, gaze alight. San shifted the collage a bit, careful of the tape. 

“Um, yeah, we’re done though” he said, 

“We made a collage for his wall” Mingi chirped, patting the edges of the collage down. Wooyoung went to put the tray down before he came over, leaning over Mingi’s shoulder to peer at it. 

“It’s good, I like all the foxes and birds of paradise. They’re pretty, very San” Wooyoung said, smiling as he patted Mingi’s shoulders. Mingi beamed, 

“We should let San eat lunch” Yunho said, moving things along. 

“I already left your food in Yunho’s room so you can eat together” Wooyoung said, smoothing a hand down the back of Mingi’s head affectionately. 

“Thanks Wooyoungie” Mingi said, leaning into the touch. San watched them, something far away aching in his chest. He peered down at the collage instead, distracting himself. “Do you wanna eat with us?” Mingi asked, San glanced at him. Mingi was watching him expectantly, San shifted a bit uncomfortably beneath his gaze. Mingi had a way of making San feel bad for saying no, but he was kind of looking forward to tucking himself away for a while. 

Someone knocked at his door, they all turned to look as someone leaned in. Jongho peaked around the door, 

“Oh, is this a bad time?” he asked, 

“No, is San due for a check up?” Wooyoung asked, reaching down to gather Mingi up off the floor. He went with a slight pout, only placated when Yunho took his hand and pressed close. 

“It’s about that time” Jongho said, stepping in and aside so that everyone else could leave. San let go of a soft breath, grateful for Jongho’s intrusion for once. He gathered up his collage and stood up, going to put it on his desk. “You’re making friends, that’s great” Jongho said, making sure the door was closed behind them before approaching San. 

“We aren’t friends” San said blandly, going to his bed next. Jongho pulled San’s desk chair over like usual, settling in it as San climbed onto his bed with his back to Jongho. 

“Mm, if I were you, I’d tell Mingi that off that bat. Once he picks someone, he gets pretty attached. He’s got a big heart, sensitive one too” Jongho said, scooting forward to press along San’s wings carefully. San toyed with the edge of his pants, ignoring the warmth of feeling the gentle touches brought. He worried about something else instead. Mingi was nice, San liked him. He was comfortable to be around. But...friends, friends were a step too far for him right now. Thinking about hurting Mingi’s feelings, though. San wasn’t sure if he could do that. 

Jongho undid the binding on San’s wings, stretching them out slowly. San tensed at the pain emanating up into his spine and shoulders from them, the bones not fully healed. Even the sensitive spots weren’t enough to distract from the pain now. 

“Any difference today?” Jongho asked, 

“Still painful” San muttered, 

“One to ten” Jongho said, 

“Seven” San huffed, bowing forward a bit. 

“Alright, you might be due to have them cleaned though. Let Wooyoung know” Jongho said, slowly folding his wings back up and binding them again. San’s breathing was a bit labored by the time they were done, “you know, I’m kind of a cynic myself. So I can recognize true cynics when I meet them” Jongho said idly as he finished binding San’s wings,  
“What does that mean?” San asked, 

“You’re not a cynic, so I know you’ll heal from this eventually” Jongho said, “it’ll take time, just don’t let yourself live in it. Getting stuck in a moment is easy, but then you’ll miss a lifetime” he said, San pulled his arms around himself. 

“Sometimes a moment makes a lifetime” he said, 

“Only if you let it” Jongho answered, San chewed the inside of his cheek. “If anything bothers you, come find me. I’ll be on the first level in the infirmary” he said, San listened to his steps pace away. The door opened, closed, and then the silence settled. San hated it. He hated it so much. Silence left room for his thoughts to fill, spaces that weren’t meant for the memories that kept him up at night. San gripped the sides of his shirts, he hated it so, so much. 

“Ugh” San muttered to himself, kicking his way off his bed. He stormed over to his desk and snatched up his lunch tray. He could feel his mouth drying as he went to his door and threw it open, not bothering to close it as he stomped his way down the hall. Forcing himself through his fear, his anxiety, to walk closer to Yunho’s room. But he realized something about half way there, he had no clue which room was his. His steps slowed until he stopped all together. 

San stood there, clutching his lunch tray, in the middle of an empty hall way. He looked forward, uncertain. Then over his shoulder, maybe he should just go back. He could deal with another lunch on his own. He could, he stepped backward, ready to bolt back to his room. The moment he took a step, though, he bumped into someone. San couldn’t stop the shriek that came out of his mouth before he spun around. The person staring back at him looked just as startled as he was. Though he seemed about the same height as San, he was sleight and pale. His honey colored hair crimped and falling on either side of a pair of dark eyes that peered at San warily. 

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t- where did you-” 

“You were standing outside my room, I was just wondering why” the man said, he was wearing what everyone else wore but he was also wearing a hoodie that seemed two sizes too big on him. Despite his sharp tone, San wasn’t intimidated by him...at all. He was a bit mesmerized though. He was extremely pretty. Red lips, smooth features, and the most peculiar mark on his temple. 

“I was...I was lost” San answered honestly, the man regarded him for a moment. 

“Where were you trying to go?” he asked finally, San wet his lips. 

“Um, there’s a couple of tall guys around here. I was looking for their room” he explained, the man’s gaze narrowed a bit. 

“Why?” he asked, San hesitated. 

“I was- um, just-” he lifted his tray a bit, “lunch?” he murmured, the man raised a brow and then moved past San. San watched him go for a moment, when the man glanced at him over his shoulder he realized he should be following. So he did, quickening his steps to catch up. The man led San down about three doors before opening the door without so much as a knock. 

“Yunho” the man called, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. “Do you know this...person?” he gestured at San with a roll of his wrist, San peered through the door. Yunho’s room was...cozy, far cozier than San’s. There were pictures on the wall and colorful pillows on the floor where he and Mingi sat. There were also books lined across the back of his desk, two rows. One on top of the other. Yunho seemed surprised to see San there but he smiled nonetheless. Mingi seemed delighted, though his cheeks were stuffed with sandwich when he made an exclamation. 

“That’s San, Yeosang” Yunho said, San startled at the name. He looked at the man, this was Yeosang. The one that gave him the wing comb. 

“Oh...really?” Yeosang said, not seeming all that impressed as he peered at San again. San felt a bit nervous but he peered back, holding his gaze for a moment. He wanted to say thank you, he should say thank you. He really liked that comb, it was pretty and reminded him of home. He should- “well, he was looking for you. I’ll be in my room” Yeosang said, waving as he moved past San back down the hall. San’s tongue curled backwards, lips pulling in. There went his opportunity. 

“You can come in, there’s plenty of room” Yunho offered, patting a pillow between them. San nodded, moving inside. He wasn’t sure if he should close the door but he didn’t, shuffling over until he could settle between them, his tray in his lap. 

Mingi leaned over, putting something on his tray. San blinked down at the cookie he left, 

“I save mine from dinner sometimes so I can eat them during the day” Mingi said, sipping his juice box. San stared at him, heart flipping over. He was unbearably cute. 

“Thank you” San said, coughing a bit as he picked up his sandwich. He took a bite, chewing idly. 

“How did your check up go? Are your wings healing okay?” Yunho asked, peeling his fruit cup open. San swallowed the food in his mouth, 

“I guess so, they still hurt pretty bad” he said, 

“The bones are broken, right? It’ll probably hurt for a while, but Jongho’s a good doctor. He’ll make sure they heal right” Mingi said, sounding certain. San picked at the crust of his sandwich a bit, 

“So I’ve been told” he said, 

“I told you that” Mingi said, still smiling. San couldn’t help the small smile growing on his own lips, 

“Yeah, I remember” he said, he took a big bite of his sandwich so he didn’t have to talk anymore. 

“So can I bring the stuff tonight?” Mingi asked, swivelling his attention to Yunho who had been eating quietly beside San until now. Yunho wiped his mouth and swallowed, 

“Mm, if you lose them you can’t complain” he said, Mingi beamed. 

“I won’t, I feel lucky today. I’m sure I’m going to win” he said, San peered between them curiously. Yunho caught his gaze mid bite, he lowered his spoon full of fruit. 

“We’re having another poker night, Mingi wanted to bring a pair of earrings Wooyoung got him a while back to up his bet. I warned him that he’d be upset if he lost them since they were a gift” Yunho said, giving Mingi another warning look. 

“But I know I can win, and I need something good to bet so Yeosang will finally bet his bracelets” Mingi explained with plenty of animation, 

“I know, I just don’t want you to cry later on if you lose” Yunho said placatingly, Mingi pouted. 

“You just don’t believe in me” he said, 

“Of course I do, but I’m just being realistic” Yunho said with a shrug of his shoulder, Mingi continued to pout. San fidgeted a bit, 

“You should play with us tonight” Mingi said, the same invitation as before. A little more pushy, a lot more imploring with the way Mingi was peering at him now. But San shifted a bit, 

“Um, I don’t really have anything to bet...aside from the stuff you guys gave me” he said, putting his sandwich down finally. 

“Well, I know you’ve got snack machine credits you’ve never used. You could bet those, or even snacks from the machine itself” Yunho said, it was the first time San had heard of these credits. Then again, he did everything he could to ignore Wooyoung most of the time. He considered it, mulling over the possibility. It would just be them...right? Yeosang too, it sounded like. Yeosang didn’t seem too taken with San, but San hadn’t exactly been all that amicable himself either. 

“Alright” San said finally, 

“Really?” Yunho said, seeming a bit surprised. San shrugged a shoulder, 

“If you don’t mind” he said, 

“We don’t mind” Mingi butted in quickly, Yunho chuckled. 

“We don’t” he agreed, San nodded slowly. He considered what to bring to the game, when he decided he stood up. 

“I’m going to go find Wooyoung” he said, already anxious at the thought. Wooyoung had gotten the brunt of his shit since he’d gotten there, San needed to start being nicer. But actively seeking him out made him kind of nervous. 

“Oh, he’s in Yeosang’s room” Mingi said helpfully, 

“Thanks, I’ll um...I’ll see you later” San said, waving before gripping his tray tightly and beating it. He didn’t bother touching Yunho’s door on his way out.  
Being around so many people was beginning to make San’s skin itch, but something deep inside was ultimately satisfied. So he took a deep breath as he neared Yeosang’s door, steeling himself for whatever reaction he was given. He slowed to a stop in front of the door, gathering some nerve. He shifted his tray into one arm, lifted a hand to knock, and then a noise reached his ears through the door. San paused, brow twitching. 

Maybe they were watching a movie or something, Wooyoung had offered San one plenty of times. San just wasn’t interested in Earth movies, back home there were always more interesting things to do. San hesitated, but then a louder noise came through and he stiffened up. A moan, a voice, a name. 

“Sang...ie” Wooyoung, that was Wooyoung moaning like a whore. San felt his heart skip a beat, legs suddenly weak as he heard another moan follow. Then a gasp and the smack of skin, a cry. San could feel his cock twitching in interest, his face heating up rapidly. He didn’t know what to do. Well, he knew what he should have done, but what his body was doing wasn’t what he was supposed to be doing. 

“Fuck” a voice rasped deeply, San sucked in a breath as his lust addled brain made a connection. Yeosang. That was Yeosang’s deceptively deep voice. Precum was beginning to drool from San’s cock, the realization that was practically hard in the middle of the hall where anyone could see him was startling enough that San back pedaled. He went back so fast he hit the window, startling a yelp out of himself. He froze as a few thuds sounded from inside Yeosang’s room, just as someone gripped the handle San went fleeing down the hall. 

Someone said his name but he was running too fast to look back, things falling off his tray as he went scrambling into his room. He kicked the door shut and threw the tray onto his desk, gasping as he tried to figure out what to do. They saw him, they must know he heard. He had LISTENED even, like a pervert. San choked on a sob as he dropped into a crouch, cock straining painfully in his underwear. He covered his face, he felt gross. The memory of Wooyoung’s voice, moaning Yeosang’s name, pulled a whimper out of San.  
“No...no” San groaned, shaking his head. He shoved a hand between his legs, rubbing at his cock feverishly. Just cum, get it over with. Go away, go away, go- 

A knock at the door startled him, San looked over his shoulder, hand still caught between his legs as he trembled on the floor. No one came in, 

“San?” it was Wooyoung, sounding out of breath. San bit his lip, tears welling in his eyes. 

“Go away” he croaked, dropping to his knees and stroking his cock with a shaking hand through his pants. 

“San, it-it’s okay, you aren’t in trouble. It was my fault” Wooyoung said, San pushed a harsh breath through his nose as his cock twitched hard. “Can I come in? So we can talk?” the handle turned and fear zipped up San’s spine, he snapped his thighs together. 

“N-no!” San whined, the pressure between his legs too much. Wooyoung didn’t come in, but the handle was still low, as if he were holding it there. 

“San...please, let me in” he said, voice low now. San felt his resolve weakening, the need to get off almost overwhelming. “Please” Wooyoung said, voice rising a few octaves, as if he were desperate. San collapsed forward, scratching at the carpet with his free hand and rutting into his other one. He choked on the noise he made, something between a sob and a moan. He heard the door open, San squeezed his eyes shut and tried to keep still. “Sannie” Wooyoung murmured, closing the door behind himself. “It’s okay” he reassured him softly, coming closer. 

“No, it’s gross. I’m-I’m sorry” San choked out, a hand ran up his back and he full body shivered. 

“It’s not, it’s okay” Wooyoung said softly, the hand soothed against his wings and San made a wanton noise at the warm pleasure each brush against them brought. Wooyoung was the only person that had touched his wings since the incident, the only person that seemed to know where to touch to set San off. San shifted up, shoving his hand into his pants finally. He found it difficult to breathe as precum poured from his cockhead into his palm, each touch electrifying. He couldn’t even remember the last time he really got off. 

“Nn, please” San begged, hips kicking as he finally peered up at Wooyoung. A whine fell from his lips at the sight of him alone. The remnants of what he’d been doing were there. His hair was a mess, his face flushed, there were bite and kiss marks along his throat. Wooyoung’s gaze was still foggy with lust as he shifted closer, slipping a hand down San’s back and into the band of his pants. 

“What do you need?” Wooyoung asked in a hum, stroking his free hand up San’s thigh. San trembled beneath them, 

“Anything” San pleaded on a breath, Wooyoung’s gaze flicked down to San’s lips and San wanted nothing more than to kiss him right now. Anything, closer, the warmth. He leaned closer, lips parted and breath coming in harsh pants between them. Wooyoung bowed over him, brushing his nose along the bridge of San’s. San chased his lips but Wooyoung pulled away, 

“Do you want to fuck me?” he asked, San made a broken noise, holding his cock in an almost painful grip. “Before you interrupted us Yeosang got to finish but I couldn’t” he murmured, finally pressing his lips to San’s pulse. San shivered, “it’s still inside me, it’ll be easy for you to slip right in” he said softly, the very idea was enough to bring San far too close to the edge. 

“Hah, gonna...no” San rutted into his hand, 

“Gonna cum? So soon?” Wooyoung murmured, dragging his teeth against San’s neck. San’s eyes rolled at the sensation, “you’re so sensitive Sannie, can I touch you?” he asked, San nodded so fast he’d nearly given himself whiplash. Wooyoung giggled and slipped the hand from San’s thigh into his pants, humming at how wet and sticky it was. Then he wrapped his fingers around San’s cock and a pathetic noise escaped him, hands gripping anything they could get ahold of as Wooyoung began stroking him. “This seems like the only way we get along, huh?” Wooyoung said, sounding amused as he peeled San’s pants down to midthigh with some shifting. San shook his head, some guilt making the moment bitter. 

“I just...hah, I’m...I was trying to be better” San whined, 

“I know, I see it. You were hanging out with Yunho and Mingi, that’s good. I’m proud of you” Wooyoung said, biting at San’s shoulder. San made another whiny noise, this one higher. Wooyoung tucked his face into San’s neck, shuffling closer and hooking a leg over San’s thigh. He was hard, San could feel it as Wooyoung began to rut against his hip. “It makes me really happy, actually” Wooyoung huffed, rolling his hips in time with his strokes. San wrapped his arms around Wooyoung, pulling him fully into his lap. Despite the tears in his eyes and how shaky he felt he pushed Wooyoung down, dislodging his hand and looming over him. Wooyoung made a soft noise of surprise, peering up at San, hair fanned out against the rug. 

“Thank you for putting up with me” San breathed, kissing him finally. Wooyoung tasted a little bitter with an underlying sweetness that San wanted more of. He licked into Wooyoung’s mouth, ignoring his moans and the way he grasped at San’s shirt. He sucked on his tongue till Wooyoung began to mewl. He pulled away, gasping for air. Wooyoung was dazed, lips swollen and shiny. San scooted down, pulling his pants down along with his underwear. 

Wooyoung’s body was nice, lean and tan. San wanted to touch it but he also wanted to cum. So he focused on the task at hand. He hiked Wooyoung’s pants and underwear down to his knees and then gathered both his legs in his leg arm, pushing them up. San couldn’t help but eye Wooyoung’s cock briefly, red and slick. Then his gaze travelled down to his hole once it was exposed. San shuddered at how puffy and pink it was, he reached down and pushed two fingers into him easily. 

“Ah!” Wooyoung jolted, San drove his fingers in deep, pushing a high noise out of Wooyoung’s throat. Yeosang really did a number on him, San could feel his wet he was inside. He couldn’t wait anymore. He pulled his fingers free and stroked his cock, swallowing his drool as he sank into Wooyoung. He was still tight and warm, writhing as San fucked into him slowly. 

San trembled hard, balls drawn up tight as Wooyoung began to spasm around him. 

“Gonna cum” San warned in a gasp, Wooyoung clenched and arched his back. 

“Fuck me, please. Me too, fuck me” he begged, trying to roll his hips. San bit the inside of his cheek and slammed his hips home, Wooyoung screamed, beginning to shake as San fucked him with hard, long strokes. He was babbling something, hands twitching toward his cock but never touching. Finally, San wrapped a hand around him and Wooyoung stiffened. His mouth fell open and he began to jerk, San stroked him and then a long moan was pulled from him. He began to cum in long splashes against his stomach, tightening around San. “F-uck” Wooyoung could hardly speak, gripping at the rug and San’s wrist as he drenched himself in cum. “Cum in me, cum in me please, cum in me” Wooyoung babbled, still shaking. San couldn’t deny him, fucking into him despite his cries and jolts. He was close, so close. 

Wooyoung finally opened his eyes, trembling at every other thrust. He met San’s gaze, holding it as he dragged his fingers through the cum on his stomach and brought his hand up to his mouth. San whimpered, hips already losing their rhythm as Wooyoung pressed down on his own tongue, deep throating his fingers without so much as a gag. San leaned down, shoving his hand out of the way to kiss him. He licked into his mouth, tasting the bitterness of cum and the sweetness of Wooyoung again. It was intoxicating. Then, Wooyoung bit down on his lip and San cried out, hips jerking twice more before he came. 

Wooyoung moaned into San’s mouth, pulling him closer as San spent himself. Before long, they were just kissing, tasting each other and wrapped in sweaty limbs. The position was awkward, but neither seemed to have complaints. Not with San still buried in Wooyoung and Wooyoung’s tongue down San’s throat. 

It was sticky and warm, though. So eventually, they parted. San pulling out with a soft hiss, watching the cum trickle out of Wooyoung before he sat up. 

“Hah, that was good” Wooyoung murmured, pushing his hair out of his face. San wiped some spit from his mouth, 

“Yeah um...is it, we’re- I mean, you and Yeosang-” San wasn’t sure what his brain was trying to push out just yet, but Wooyoung caught on. He smiled, 

“We aren’t exclusive, well, we are but- don’t worry, we’re all sort of...together. Plus, they kind of like you, I kind of like you. I’m just glad you’re opening to anyone” he said with a shrug, San could feel an emotion flush through him. What it was, he didn’t know. Maybe it was relief, he couldn’t be sure. His brows pinched, 

“You- we, as in…” he hesitated, 

“Level ten is empty for a reason” Wooyoung grinned, San blinked, lips parting as a thought struck him. “Don’t worry, I didn’t want you here for that reason specifically. Yunho is good at making people feel at home, I just thought you might be happier around him. I didn’t think Mingi would be the guy to get you out of your shell” he said, San wasn’t so sure if he was out of his shell. 

“They’re nice” he said softly, Wooyoung peered at him. 

“Yeah, they are” he said, San fidgeted a bit, dick still out and Wooyoung’s pants still down. Even then, he felt like something needed to be said. 

“I’m sorry...for being difficult all the time” he said, Wooyoung moved a little closer and rested a hand beneath San’s chin, tipping his face back up. 

“You’ve suffered an insane loss San, you’re allowed to pissy for a while. All I was ever worried about was whether you were eating, showering, and happy” he said with a small smile, San’s lips twitched. 

“So this…” he hesitated again, Wooyoung’s gaze softened. He kissed San gently, 

“Can be whatever you want it to be, when you’re ready” he said as he pulled back, he shifted onto his knees and pulled his pants up. “For now, I’m going to go do some damage control and take a shower. I’ll bring you some new clothes too” he said, San watched him go for a moment. 

“Wooyoung” San said, Wooyoung paused at the door, glancing back at him. San peered at him, something like fear growing in his chest. “Um, you’ve got a stain...on your butt” He said, Wooyoung blinked and then peered back at himself. He snorted, 

“Yeah, I figured as much” he said, “goodnight San” he closed the door behind him, San sat back and sighed heavily. He pushed a hand into his hair, resting his forehead on his knee. What was he doing...


End file.
